


To Catch A Criminal...

by vulcanhighblood



Series: Sharingan-Stealer Iruka [4]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Anbu Hatake Kakashi, Big Brother Uchiha Itachi, Fuuinjutsu Master Umino Iruka, Gen, Improper Use of Exploding Tags, Kid Uchiha Itachi, Kid Uchiha Sasuke, Kid Umino Iruka, Minor Original Character(s), Orphanage, Pranks and Practical Jokes, Pre-Canon, Protective Uchiha Itachi, Team Two Umino Iruka, Umino Iruka Needs a Hug, Umino Iruka-centric
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-11-07
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 24,177
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26614816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulcanhighblood/pseuds/vulcanhighblood
Summary: Iruka's been trying to solve the ongoing Konoha orphanage theft issue all on his own, but all he's managed to do is put himself in an even worse position than before. Fortunately, he doesn't have to handle everything on his own anymore.
Relationships: Morino Ibiki & Umino Iruka, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Shisui, Uchiha Itachi & Uchiha Shisui & Umino Iruka, Uchiha Itachi & Umino Iruka
Series: Sharingan-Stealer Iruka [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899430
Comments: 82
Kudos: 242





	1. Springing the Trap

Iruka smiled to himself, tossing his small coin purse in the air and catching it, repeating the action twice before slipping it into his pocket. He still hadn’t quite grown accustomed to the weight of coins in his pocket, still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that he actually had money to spend these days. He’d just gotten back from their team’s latest D-rank mission, and had a few hours to himself before the four of them were scheduled for some low-visibility training that evening. Iruka was excited about it, but Itachi had seemed even more neutral about it than most things. Then again, Itachi had been asking Yuuki-sensei about trying a C-rank mission for the past few weeks, and it almost seemed to Iruka as though Yuuki-sensei was passive-aggressively punishing all of them for Itachi’s inability to drop the issue by choosing the _most boring D-rank missions_ he could possibly find. Even Iruka was bored, and he knew if he was bored then Itachi was _definitely_ bored, the kid had an Uchiha Jonin sparring partner for training in his _free time._ He hoped this low-visibility training meant that Yuuki-sensei was assessing their skills to see if they were finally ready for a C-rank mission. If not, at least it didn’t sound as boring as spending the night in a barn for another D-rank stakeout.

Wandering through the central market street of Konoha, Iruka contemplated purchasing some snacks, but resisted the urge. He was turning thirteen in just over a month and needed to save up enough to put a down payment on an apartment. At the rate things were going, he’d need to start asking Yuuki-sensei for them to go on C-rank missions too, if he wanted to have a roof over his head for his birthday. Humming softly to himself, Iruka sauntered past the market stalls, ignoring the suspicious looks vendors cast his way. He knew better than to bother with them, he’d already figured out who was willing to take his money now that he had it and who was still holding his past indiscretions against him. 

He swung down a dark alley, scrambling up a fire escape and making his way to the roof. He waved at an ANBU several streets over, also perched on a rooftop. The ANBU tilted their head ever-so-slightly, like they weren’t sure how to react to a friendly greeting. Iruka figured it was the least he could do. He was familiar with a sizeable portion of the ANBU population at this point, mostly due to the number of stupid stunts he’d pulled over the last two years trying to get someone to notice him. He’d taken to other, less prank-y methods of getting attention these days, but in his heart Iruka still enjoyed surprising people, and ANBU were almost always surprised to be acknowledged, much less greeted warmly. Jogging across the roof, Iruka built up a bit of chakra in his legs, allowing him to easily leap across the alley to the next rooftop, and the next, until he was skidding to a stop on the building across the wide market street from the ANBU in question. 

“Hi there, ANBU-san,” he called, waving again. He didn’t get an answer, but he wasn’t expecting one, either. “Have a nice evening!” he added, leaping to the next building, enjoying the way the ANBU’s mask tracked him as he leapt to the next building, and the one after that. A moment later, the ANBU was back to watching the street. Which was fine, Iruka knew they had a job to do. He did enjoy watching the myriad reactions, though. Each ANBU responded a little differently to his greetings. Some stiffened, some nodded, some pointedly looked away, some cocked their heads in curiosity, and some just stared back at him. It didn’t really matter to Iruka what the reaction was, the fact that he sparked a reaction at all was enough for him, most days. Besides, keeping people guessing as to whether he was pulling a prank or just being genuinely friendly brought him a special kind of joy. 

ANBU harassment done for the evening, Iruka continued scampering across the rooftops, the large, decrepit structure that was the Konoha orphanage looming in the distance. He didn’t bother entering via the front, choosing instead to walk down the side of the building and slip into his room through his warded window. He quickly pressed a bit of his chakra into the small seal he’d carved into a corner of the wooden frame. It was placed over a knot, and curved in a way that mimicked the shape of the wood itself. He was proud of it, probably more proud than it really deserved, but Iruka took pride in the few things he _could_ take pride in _,_ and this was one of those things. 

As soon as he entered his room, he realized something had gone terribly wrong. It was _empty._ Everything was gone - his small chest with the items salvaged from the ruins of his parents’ home, his small shelf of assorted seals-making supplies that he’d started accumulating over the past few months, even the dirty clothes he hadn’t bothered to launder were no longer scattered across the floor. His bed was bare, his closet empty, everything was _gone!_ Why? Who had done this? As he cast his gaze around the room for a clue, any hint as to where all of his things had gone, he spotted a note lying in the middle of the floor. Iruka scooped it up quickly, a frown tugging at his features as he scanned the message. 

_Iruka,_ the note read, _please come to the office when you receive this note. Certain behaviors have come to our attention and must be dealt with as soon as you return._

_-Naho_

Grimacing, Iruka shoved the note in his pocket, wondering what the old bat wanted with him now. Naho was the head of the orphanage. She was a nasty old woman who used to be a Konoha shinobi - one of the two people who worked at the orphanage who was, and the only staff member who’d made it to chunin. He’d never heard why she quit, or why she’d chosen to take up a position at the orphanage, but it sure didn’t seem to Iruka to be her lifelong ambition or a decision driven by anything even remotely sentimental. Of course, Iruka had gotten on her bad side pretty early on, so maybe she really did enjoy her job and she just hated him personally. The more Iruka thought about it the more likely it seemed. He tended to have that effect on people. 

With a scowl, Iruka shuffled down the three flights of stairs to the main floor of the orphanage. He headed for the office, only to be pulled aside by Natsuki and Amane, the twins who had first alerted him to the fact that he hadn’t been the only one to have valuables stolen. 

“Iruka!” Natsuki exclaimed, grabbing his arm, “You’re back!”

This was obvious, but Iruka resisted the urge to tell her that. She was just a kid, only six years old, she didn’t deserve to bear the brunt of Iruka’s irritation. “Hey Natsuki,” Iruka said, suddenly feeling tired. “What happened to my room?”

“I don’t know,” Natsuki confessed, glancing at Amane. “Do you?”

“I just heard Naho yelling about it yesterday,” Amane said, her gaze fixed on the floorboards. “Sorry, Iruka. I heard they took everything out of your room.”

Iruka sighed. “Yeah, I’m supposed to go see Naho now. Was there something you wanted?”

Natsuki glanced around like she thought they might be overheard. Normally, Iruka found her paranoia amusing. Now he was beginning to wonder if Natsuki didn’t have the right idea. “We found out that three other kids’ things went missing,” she finally said. “Kai, Seiya, and Masaki. But no one lost any more things after your room… issue.”

Iruka leaned forward eagerly. “Did anyone go home after the room incident? Or go to the hospital?”

Natsuki’s face blanched. “Iruka, did you do something _dangerous?”_

Iruka patted her head in a way he _knew_ from personal experience felt condescending. Which was precisely why he did it to Natsuki. “Nothing permanently damaging,” he assured the kid. “Just something surprising enough that the victim might decide to get checked out.”

Natsuki frowned thoughtfully. “Eriko didn’t show up until an hour after Naho sent for her, but everyone else got here right away.”

Iruka nodded, filing that information away for future consideration. “Thanks for the information. I better go talk to Naho before she gets even more upset,” he said. 

“Thanks, Iruka,” Natsuki said.

“Yeah, thanks,” Amane echoed softly.

Iruka nodded, and resumed his trek towards the office. He was _not_ looking forward to this conversation. Before he could even open the door, it swung open to reveal an irritated Naho, scowling down at Iruka. “There you are!” she hissed. “I’ve been waiting for you for over an hour, why didn’t you come right away?”

Iruka didn’t feel like reminding her that he didn’t exactly have a detailed timeline for every single D-rank mission his team undertook, and instead shrugged his shoulders. “I was busy.”

“I’m sure you were,” Naho said in a tone of voice that clearly stated otherwise. “Get in here.”

Iruka followed her into the staff office, pointedly not glancing in the corner of the room where two loose boards could be wiggled up and out of the floor, providing access to a small lockbox where he _hoped_ his mother’s jewelry box was still hidden. Instead, he kept his eyes on the head matron of the orphanage. She was thin, but not the sort of thin that came effortlessly. Naho was the sort of thin that came when one was accustomed to high levels of physical effort in their younger years, but now didn’t exercise or eat enough to maintain the weight and muscle tone of their former lifestyle. She had sharp fingernails that had cut into Iruka’s skin once or twice when she grabbed his arm too hard, and her eyes were sharp too, her gaze nearly as cutting as her words often were. 

“What were you _thinking,_ setting something like that around your room?” she demanded, kicking out a chair and staring at Iruka until he sank into it. Once he was seated, she marched around to her desk, seating herself and leaning forward on her forearms to glare at Iruka. “An exploding tag? Do you have any idea how badly someone could have been hurt?” 

“It wasn’t an exploding tag,” Iruka protested. 

“It exploded, didn’t it?” Naho replied.

“No, if it had exploded my door would be gone!” Iruka snapped.

“So not only did you set a stupid trap in your _own room,_ you’re also incapable of making a functional exploding tag,” Naho spat. “Am I supposed to be _happy_ about that?”

“It _wasn’t_ an exploding tag!” Iruka growled, “It was an _itching_ tag, and you’d have known that if you were there. So who was it that broke into my room?”

“No one _broke in,_ Iruka,” Naho sighed, pinching the bridge of her bony nose as if to ward off an impending headache. “Eriko was making the rounds, and she was checking to make sure your room was clean.”

Iruka frowned. “Since when does Eriko do rounds?” he challenged. So Eriko _had_ been the one to set off the tag, after all. She wasn’t one of the former shinobi, so it made sense that she wouldn’t have been able to tell the difference between an exploding tag and one of his modifications. But that wasn’t enough to prove that she was the one stealing. And he still needed to get his stuff back. “And where is all my stuff?”

“We had to clean out your room because of the smoke,” Naho said, “And your window was stuck, so we had to clear out half the floor to allow the smoke to dissipate.”

Iruka blinked at that, a little surprised. “The window isn’t stuck,” he said. “It’s warded.”

Naho’s eyes narrowed. “I think I would have _noticed_ a ward,” she spat. “But if that’s what you tell yourself, far be it from me to challenge your-”

“If I trapped my door, how else would I have gotten out?” Iruka pointed out, willing himself to not scream at her, mostly because he knew from experience that she could yell a _lot_ louder than he could. 

Her wrinkled face twisting into a displeased scowl, Naho waved the comment aside like it was a pesky fly. “Whatever,” she said, even though it wasn’t whatever, Iruka was right, she just hated to admit it, the old bat. “The point is, we had to clear everything out. We washed all of the clothes, obviously, but some things couldn’t be washed, so we had to dispose of them.”

Iruka felt his heart lurch. “Dispose of them how?” he asked.

“We threw them out,” Naho said, giving him a sharp look. 

“Threw _what_ out?” Iruka cried. “What did you do to my stuff?”

“The appropriate question here is what did _you_ do to _your own things?”_ Naho countered. 

“I can clean it off!” Iruka yelped. “What did you do?”

“There wasn’t all that much,” Naho said. “We were able to wipe off your small chest of valuables. As it was still sealed, we just cleaned the outside.”

“What about all my seals supplies on the shelf?” Iruka pressed, his panic halfway subsiding. His parents’ things hadn’t been thrown out, at least. 

“You mean the things you used to set a trap in your room?” Naho scowled down her nose at him, her tone growing colder with each word. “You’ll not be getting those back, Iruka. Surely you’ve realized that much.”

Iruka felt his blood run cold. “You didn’t throw them out,” he said slowly. “You couldn’t.”

Naho sniffed once, disdainfully. “We most certainly did.”

“But,” Iruka felt like the room was tilting, his heart thundering in his ears. “You didn’t throw out the books, at least. Not the books?” he knew his pleas were falling on deaf ears, but felt he had to try anyway. “Please tell me you kept the books!”

“I assure you, Iruka,” Naho said, her lip curling in a sneer, “we threw out _everything.”_

Before he had fully processed what he was doing, Iruka was already out of his seat and headed for the door. For all her years out of the field, Naho was still _fast,_ though, and she put herself between him and the door before Iruka could reach it. “And where do you think _you’re_ going?” she demanded, bony arms crossed over her chest as she stared down at Iruka. “Go sit down, I’m not finished with you yet.”

“When did you throw them out?” Iruka cried, trying to reach past her for the door. “Today? Yesterday?” He’d only been gone one night, but if the books had been in the garbage for _two days-!_

“I’m not telling you anything more until you _sit down,”_ Naho snarled, her tone of voice sending a shudder down Iruka’s spine.

Slowly, Iruka took a step back, then another, until he’d somehow forced himself back into the seat, his whole body tense as he thought about those _books in the garbage._ “What?” he asked, forcing himself to sit still even though all he wanted to do was find the books. 

“We have a more pressing matter than your poor taste in reading material,” Naho said, sinking back into her chair, her scowl growing more pronounced. “Eriko was _very_ upset by your prank, Iruka. Do you remember the discussion we had at the beginning of this year? About _consequences?”_

Iruka nodded slowly. It had been more of a lecture than a discussion, and had mostly involved Naho threatening to saddle him with more chores than he could possibly finish in a day if he ever hid a dead fish in the air vents over the office again. He’d only done it to prove the point that only the office got heating during the winter, because only the office ended up smelling bad, but Naho hadn’t seen it that way, and had made her position on pranks _very clear_. Iruka braced himself for Naho to hand him a list with a truly horrific amount of chores on it. Instead, she sighed.

“Iruka, Eriko has petitioned for your expedited emancipation,” Naho said. “That’s why your things aren’t in your room anymore. It’s being given to someone else. If her appeal succeeds, you won’t be allowed to stay here any longer.”

Blinking slowly, not certain he’d heard her correctly, Iruka said, “But I thought I still had a month.” First his books were gone, and now they wanted to take away his room, too? 

Naho pressed her lips in a tight line, staring at Iruka with unsympathetic eyes. “You did, but after this incident, we’ll have to wait to hear back from the board of directors.”

“But where am I going to sleep?” Iruka protested, feeling his volume rise despite his best efforts to not shout at Naho. “I don’t have anywhere else to go!” 

Naho shrugged. “You can stay in the dormitory. We’ll keep anything that won’t fit in your locker here in the office.” 

_I bet you will,_ Iruka thought viciously, pointedly _not_ looking at the safe that _already_ held something of his. “Okay,” he said, not because he actually agreed, but because he didn’t really have a choice in the matter. “So you’re kicking me out. _Now_ can you tell me about the books?”

“We threw them out with the rest of the items on that shelf,” Naho said. 

“Did you even _look_ at them?” Iruka snapped, unable to contain his frustration, his hands balling into fists. He _needed_ to find those books.

“No, it was fairly obvious that the shelf contained all your ‘prank supplies’, so we tossed everything that was on it.” Naho gave him a bored look. “Why, was there contraband in there?”

“No,” Iruka said, “but three of the books aren’t mine. One’s from the Konoha Library and the other two are from the _Sarutobi Family Library.”_

To her credit, Naho didn’t even blink. “Well then I guess you should have considered that before abusing the knowledge in those books,” she said coolly. 

Iruka forced himself not to explode by taking several deep breaths. She still had information he needed, so he had to hold it together a bit longer. “So where did you put them?”

Naho shot him a vaguely amused look that shifted into a sneer as she answered, “In the dumpster, Iruka. Where the trash is _supposed_ to go.” 

That would have made him more upset if Iruka hadn’t already been at peak frustration. “Right. When did you throw it out?”

“This morning,” Naho answered. “The garbage collection comes tomorrow for burnable items. You’d better hurry if you want to find them tonight.”

Iruka was almost convinced that Naho _had_ looked at the books and had tossed them because she _knew_ if anything happened to them, he’d be the one in trouble. All he did was nod, though, because she was right. He _did_ need to hurry if he was going to find them. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” Naho said. “Oh, and Iruka? Please don’t come back inside if you smell like garbage. Hose yourself off outside, first.”

* * *

Crawling into the second dumpster, Iruka winced at the rancid scent of rotting food that emanated from its contents. He’d already checked the paper bin, which is where he’d assumed his scrolls and books and chakra paper would have been discarded, but it wasn’t there. So now he was crawling into the scraps bin, which usually had a lot less paper and a lot more old food, dirty diapers, and other gross things in it. Propping the lid open, Iruka began scooting bags of trash to the side, trying to find a bag full of papers. It was starting to get dark now, and he was beginning to worry he wouldn’t be able to find anything once the sun set. “Come on,” he hissed, lifting a heavy bag full of what was probably diapers, scooting it to the side and digging a bit deeper. “Where are you?” They had to be here somewhere.

“Iruka?” came a voice from outside the dumpster.

Iruka froze, turning around and peering out over the edge of the dumpster. Standing there were Yuuki-sensei, Shinko, and Itachi. Yuuki-sensei had been the one to speak up, and he was eyeing Iruka with a baffled look. “Why are you in a dumpster?” he asked.

Iruka remembered then that he was supposed to have met them for that evening training session around sundown. “I…” he froze, his words dying in his mouth. What was he supposed to say? That he’d set a trap on his room door to try and catch a thief and it had backfired? That he’d been secretly experimenting with exploding tag variations without supervision? That he was actually a stupid nuisance and Yuuki-sensei was wasting his time on him? “They threw out my books,” is what Iruka said instead. “And my brush.”

Yuuki-sensei frowned, “They threw out your books? Why?”

Iruka hadn’t been prepared for _follow up questions._ “Um.” What could he say? “Because they were… dangerous?”

Yuuki-sensei frowned a little. “Why would they think _books_ are dangerous?”

Itachi piped up with a less-than-helpful comment. “Because Iruka doesn’t know the meaning of subtlety.”

Iruka was _sorely_ tempted to throw a bag full of dirty diapers at Itachi’s head. These sorts of implications were precisely what he’d been trying to _avoid!_ “Anyway it wouldn’t be a big deal, usually,” Iruka interrupted loudly, “But the books aren’t mine, they’re library books.”

Yuuki-sensei winced. “Bummer.” 

“Did you already check that dumpster?” Itachi asked, pointing to the paper dumpster.

“Yes,” Iruka scowled. “I’m pretty sure they put them in here because they _knew_ I would go digging for them.”

“That doesn’t sound right,” Yuuki-sensei said, “If they knew you would reclaim them, why throw them away at all? Either they’re too dangerous and should be confiscated, or you want them, so you can keep them.”

“I think it was someone else who threw them away at first, and Naho just didn’t care enough to rescue them,” Iruka confessed. _Probably Eriko,_ he thought bitterly. _I guess she must be the one stealing things._

“Well,” Yuuki-sensei grunted, hopping up to perch on the side of the dumpster, “I always say: two sets of eyes are better than one.”

“You’ve never said that, Yuuki-sensei,” Shinko pointed out as she clambered up the side of the dumpster, too. 

“I haven’t?” Yuuki-sensei said, a hint of a grin tugging at his mouth. “Well, I have now.”

It took them the better part of an hour to find his things. By that time, Itachi had gotten over himself and clambered into the dumpster too. They threw half of the contents out of the dumpster so they could dig deeper, to the point that Iruka was fairly certain that Eriko had _intentionally_ buried his books and other materials underneath the garbage to make things harder for him. Not that he was surprised, since he had made a pretty nasty trap and it made sense to him that she’d want to pay him back for something like that.

Still, he rather enjoyed watching Itachi’s normally neutral expression wrinkle with disgust every time he handled a bag full of dirty diapers. Right around the time they found Iruka’s books and seal-making supplies, Iruka had to ask. “Hey Itachi, don’t you have a little brother?”

Itachi’s eyes practically _sparkled_ as he answered. “Oh yes,” he said, “His name is Sasuke. He’s very sweet.”

Although skeptical (Iruka fed and bathed about four of the very young kids in the orphanage as part of his regular duties, which of course meant he had a pretty good idea of what babies were like and they were rarely _sweet),_ Iruka didn’t bother challenging him on the fact. After all, he’d never met Sasuke before and for all he knew the tiny Uchiha’s baby brother was the exception to prove the rule. “So then why are you so squeamish about diapers?” Iruka asked, lobbing another knot of discarded poop-receptacles over the side of the dumpster so he could dig a bit deeper.

“I don’t mind _diapers,_ but human fecal matter is a known carrier of disease and I don’t want to get sick,” Itachi replied, gingerly lifting his own bag of diapers and easing it over the side of the dumpster.

Iruka blinked. “Oh. I hadn’t thought of that.” He considered the amount of poopy diapers he usually faced in a day - it wasn’t a lot, since he was out on missions more lately, but he still changed a diaper or two most days. “So you change Sasuke’s diaper sometimes, then?”

“Oh yes,” Itachi agreed in a surprisingly warm tone. “I often take care of him when my parents aren’t home.”

Opening his mouth to ask if his parents thought it was responsible to leave a baby with someone who was barely seven years old, Iruka remembered _which_ seven-year-old in particular they would be entrusting Sasuke to and changed his mind. “I guess you’re a pretty responsible big brother,” he said. “That’s nice.”

Turning to gaze at him, Itachi’s face twisted slightly, like he was confused. “Was that a compliment?” he asked.

“Why _wouldn’t_ it be?” Iruka demanded, ducking down and rooting through some more garbage to avoid his eye contact.

“I just don’t think you’ve ever complimented me before, that’s all,” Itachi said simply, lifting another bag of diapers and pausing. “We’re looking for books, yes?”

“Yeah,” Iruka said, shuffling through some food waste with a grimace. Fish guts. Lovely. 

“Would those books have brushes and ink with them, too?”

“Yes!” Iruka gasped, dropping the fish guts and turning to see what Itachi was looking at. Below the bag of diapers was a small bag containing his seal-making materials and three books. “That’s it!”

“Great!” Yuuki-sensei exclaimed from behind them. “Guess it’s time to hop out and throw all the garbage back _into_ the dumpster, then.”

Itachi made a face, carefully picking up the bag of supplies and handing it to Iruka. “I’m glad we found your books,” he said.

Feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his chest, Iruka accepted the bag of books. “Yeah,” he said softly, “me too.” 

“What happened, anyway?” Itachi asked. “Why did they get thrown out?”

Iruka glanced nervously at Yuuki-sensei, who was starting to gather up bags of diapers in preparation to toss them back into the dumpster. “I’ll tell you later,” he said.

Raising an eyebrow, Itachi glanced between Iruka and their Jonin-sensei before shrugging. “Okay.” 

Surprised that Itachi had relented so easily (considering how annoying he could be with reminding Iruka of his prankster reputation), Iruka hopped out of the dumpster before Itachi could change his mind. Shinko had two bags of diapers in each hand. “Better hop out of there, Itachi,” she called, “I’m about to start throwing things back in!”

“Wait!” Itachi hopped out so fast he resembled nothing so much as a sentient motion blur. “Okay, now you can throw them away,” he said, and Shinko tossed the bags, Yuuki-sensei tossing a few in after her. 

Rather than joining them, Iruka took a moment to unpack the garbage bag and make sure his supplies were all in order. The books looked fine, though he didn’t bother taking anything out of the bag since his hands still smelled like dirty diapers and fish guts and other assorted garbage. “I think it’s all here,” he announced. “Thanks, guys.”

“You’re welcome!” Shinko replied with a smile. 

“What are teammates for?” Yuuki-sensei added, tossing another few bags back into the dumpster. 

“I’m glad you found your books,” Itachi added, staring at the bags on the ground like they might come to life and try to eat him alive.

Taking some pity on the tiny Uchiha, Iruka set his books aside and grabbed the last few trash bags, throwing them into the dumpster and then frowning down at himself. “I’m so gross now,” he said. 

“We all are,” Shinko said with a grimace of her own. “I don’t think I’ve _ever_ smelled this bad.”

“Why don’t we all go our separate ways, clean up, and meet at the training grounds in forty-five minutes?” Yuuki-sensei suggested. “That’ll give you enough time to put your books somewhere safe, too,” he said to Iruka. 

Iruka nodded, not quite trusting himself to speak. He wasn’t sure anywhere in the orphanage was safe for his things anymore. Still, he knew Yuuki-sensei meant well, and he wasn’t going to reject the offer, since he still needed to clean up.

“Sounds good,” Shinko said, “See you all in forty minutes.” With that, she jogged off, ostensibly in the direction of her house.

“See you,” Itachi echoed, turning and disappearing in a different direction. 

Yuuki-sensei patted Iruka’s shoulder as he turned to head off as well. “See you in a bit.”

Iruka nodded, smiling weakly at Yuuki-sensei. “Yeah.” He glanced down at his books and supplies with a sigh. What was he going to do with this stuff _now?_

After finding a tiny hidey-hole in the dormitory he’d been moved into pending the board of directors’ decision about his place at the orphanage, Iruka secreted away his things and retrieved a change of clothes from his box of stuff in the office. Naho wrinkled her nose at him when he came in, which was understandable, since he smelled awful, but also seemed pretty unfair since he wouldn’t smell so bad if she hadn’t let Eriko throw his things in the trash. 

He made it to the training grounds with a few minutes to spare, which he spent going through the few seals he’d put together to try out. He thought he might try his hand at barriers, since he’d managed some interesting innovations with tags. Maybe if he could manage to adjust barriers, he could try and tweak his wards, too. But first things first, he had to make sure his basic barriers were all in order. Which was why he’d brought his barrier seals with him for a bit of extra practice using them. Barriers, unlike tags, had specific placement requirements based on the type of barrier and the amount of chakra input. He also had to be sure he laid them down in the right order, and the script on them was pretty complex, so if you weren’t careful, you could mix them up. Absently, he considered whether changing the ink color would have a detrimental effect on the barrier itself. If not, that might be a nice shorthand way to remind himself of the placement order. 

They’d never really used barriers much in the Academy, so most of what he’d learned came from the books Yuuki-sensei had gotten him and the ones he’d borrowed from the Sarutobi library. He liked them well enough based on his admittedly limited experience. Mostly he used them to keep his tag experiments under control, though he hadn’t had much time to work with them beyond the basics yet. He hoped they’d ultimately prove to be at least as useful as his tag modifications. 

“Hey Iruka,” Itachi said, “I’m glad you made it here early.”

Surprised, Iruka turned to see Itachi wandering over to join him. “Oh, hey,” he said.

“So why did they throw out your stuff?” Itachi asked. “Was it your itch tag?”

Iruka scowled. Of course Itachi would bring that up. “Look, I already got my ear scolded off by Naho, I know it was a dumb idea so I don’t need _you_ telling me the same thing over again,” Iruka said irritably. “I just didn’t want anyone taking my stuff.” He burst out with a bitter laugh as he realized how stupid he sounded, in light of what happened. “Well _that_ sure backfired. So don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”

Itachi’s soft features tightened in a small frown. “Take your stuff?”

Iruka sighed, slumping to the ground and spreading out his barrier seals, arranging them into small piles in the order they should be placed. “Yeah. People’s stuff has been disappearing, and we went on that overnight mission, so I set a trap on my room door to keep people out.”

Crouching beside Iruka, Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “And someone set off the trap.”

Iruka scoffed. “Yeah. For _room checks,_ supposedly. Except they stopped _checking rooms_ after mine.” 

Itachi tilted his head, eyeing Iruka thoughtfully. “Did other people have things go missing after their room checks?”

“I mean, they weren’t official room checks,” Iruka sighed, gathering his organized seals into a small bundle and tucking them into one of his belt pouches. “So there’s no real _proof_ that things go missing after room checks. But nothing went missing _after_ my room trap, and things _did_ go missing before.”

“So you were being punished for attempting to defend your own property?” Itachi sounded baffled. “Don’t you have the right to privacy?”

“Supposedly,” Iruka scoffed, “Though in practice as long as you’re in the orphanage you don’t really have a private space, there aren’t any real locks on the doors.”

Frown deepening, Itachi plucked one of his kunai from its sheath and twirled it on a finger absently. “That’s not fair, if you have a room you should be able to decide who comes in or out.”

Iruka felt another peal of wild, desolate laughter bubbling in his throat, but he managed to swallow it back down. “You’d think so,” he said. “But apparently that’s not how the orphanage staff see things. Especially _my_ stuff, because I’m… you know…”

“Incorrigible?” Itachi smirked lightly, re-sheathing his kunai and turning to fully face Iruka. “An unrepentant prankster?”

“A bad kid,” Iruka said dismally, flopping back onto the grass, gazing up at the dark sky overhead, the tiny winking lights of stars overhead blinking down at him. “Nobody really wants me around, they just put up with me.”

“I don’t just put up with you,” Itachi protested, gingerly laying down beside Iruka and staring up at the sky, too. “I talk to you because I want to.”

Iruka turned to stare at Itachi, genuinely surprised. “Wait, really?”

Turning his head to stare at Iruka, Itachi shifted uncomfortably on the ground. “Yes,” he said matter-of-factly, a small crease between his eyebrows. “Why would I say so if I didn’t mean it?”

“I don’t know,” Iruka replied, frowning a little as he thought about it. “I guess you don’t really have any reason to lie.”

“Of course not,” Itachi said, his small frown deepening slightly as he shifted again. “Why are we lying on the grass?”

A _real_ laugh escaped Iruka as he glanced back up at the sky. “It’s comfortable, isn’t it?”

“Not particularly,” Itachi said testily. “It’s a bit wet. And the ground is lumpy.”

Iruka laughed again, sitting up. “How are you going to handle missions if you can’t sleep on the ground?”

“I can sleep on the ground when it’s _necessary,”_ Itachi shot back, sounding affronted as he sat up, too. “I just don’t see the point in doing so when it isn’t required.”

Iruka shrugged. “Fair enough.” He glanced at Itachi, who was dusting off his Uchiha tunic, nose wrinkled at the grass clinging to his shoulders. “You missed a spot,” he teased, brushing Itachi’s shoulders a few times, a bit more forcefully than was strictly necessary. 

“Thank you,” Itachi said, rather ruining Iruka’s fun by being genuinely grateful. 

Unable to find words to express himself, Iruka settled for _actually_ brushing the grass from Itachi’s shirt, smiling absently at the Uchiha crest emblazoned across his back. Once he finished, he sat back, bracing himself on his hands, glancing back up at the stars. Beside him, Itachi was also silent for a long moment. 

“You’re not a bad kid,” Itachi said, still staring at the sky.

Iruka didn’t know how to respond to that, either, so instead he just scooted a little closer to Itachi, the two of them waiting quietly for the rest of their team to arrive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Itachi: You're not bad, just annoying  
> Iruka: *wipes tear* that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in years  
> Itachi: wait, what?  
> Iruka: what?


	2. A Busy Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka has visitors at the orphanage and manages to make an enemy of an ANBU, all in one morning!

The next morning, Iruka was (unsuccessfully) trying to convince Nanako to eat her mashed peas when Koki came bursting into the dining room. 

“Iruka!” he said in what Naho would definitely consider an _outdoor voice_ , “There are two _Uchihas_ here to see you! Are you getting arrested for something?” 

For a heart-stopping moment, Iruka genuinely thought he  _ might _ be under arrest - he wouldn’t put it past Eriko to frame him for something at this point. She’d been shooting him death glares all morning, making him glad that he’d taken the time to find a decent hiding place for his things, or he might have come back from his training last night just to end up digging through the dumpster again. Then, his heart settled as he saw Itachi walking in, followed by Shisui.

“Hey Iruka,” Shisui said with an easy smile, “Good to see you again.”

“Yeah,” Iruka said, feeling his face heat, realizing he was still in his indoor clothes, currently wearing some of Nanako’s mashed peas. “Good to see you too.” He glanced down at Nanako, who was reaching for her remaining bite of mashed peas like she thought if she could just dump it out, he’d somehow forget she hadn’t eaten it. “Just a minute,” he said to Itachi and Shisui, scooping the last small bite of green mush into the little spoon and tipping it against Nanako’s mouth. She wasn’t having it, of course. “Come on, Nanako,” he pleaded, “If you finish your peas, I’ll do a trick.” 

Nanako eyed him with a level of suspicion that only a vegetable-averse toddler could conjure, and kept her lips staunchly closed. 

Iruka weighed the idea of embarrassing himself in front of Itachi and Shisui to the knowledge that if he didn’t make Nanako finish her food she probably wouldn’t eat again until lunchtime. Sighing, he hid the spoon out of eyesight and lifted his other hand, forming a fist. “All right, Nanako, you asked for it,” he said in a mock-aggressive tone. “Stick ‘em up!” 

Nanako, who was more than happy to engage in play violence, lifted her fists in response. 

“Hee-yah!” Iruka said dramatically, stretching his fist towards her at a snail’s pace. 

Nanako easily caught his fist in her two chubby hands. 

“Oh no!” Iruka gasped in mock horror, “You caught my - gaaah!!” He pretended to cry out in pain, dropping to one knee in mock agony as Nanako twisted his fist. “My wrist! My arrrrrm! Aaaaaughhhh!”

Nanako’s eyes sparkled, her mouth popping open as she let out a delighted giggle, and Iruka’s other hand, still holding the last spoonful of mashed peas, eased the last of the vegetable into her mouth. Nanako made a face like she wasn’t sure whether to feel betrayed or resigned to the last bite of peas, but at least she swallowed them. 

“All right, Nanako,” Iruka said, pointing to the small bowl of little crackers on her highchair tray, “now I want you to finish those.”

Happy to comply now that vegetables were not part of the equation, Nanako picked up a few of the small crackers, putting them into her mouth. Satisfied that she was finishing up her meal, Iruka turned back to Iruka and Shisui. 

“Sorry about that,” he apologized, scrubbing at the back of his neck awkwardly. “She doesn’t like eating her vegetables.”

“Is she your sister?” Itachi asked, eyeing Nanako curiously.

“Oh!” Iruka felt his face flush, “No, I’m an only child. Nanako’s one of the littles, so I help out with her and some of the others.” 

“I see,” Itachi said. “That’s nice of you.”

Iruka shrugged, feeling awkward. “It’s one of my chores,” he said. “Plus, if I didn’t feed her, she probably wouldn’t get fed until noon.”

Shisui’s eyebrows jumped, nearing his hitai-ate headband. “Really? Why not?”

Iruka snorted. “Because there are too many kids here, and not enough adults who actually  _ care _ if everyone has breakfast each morning.”

“Isn’t that their job, though?” Shisui asked, sounding concerned. It was kind of nice, but also embarrassing. 

“I don’t know about you, but if any of  _ us  _ ask the adults about it, they’re very quick to tell you that their job is to make sure we have a roof over our heads, and anything beyond that is only due to their incredible generosity,” Iruka said, punctuating the statement with a dramatic eyeroll, having heard this line enough times over the years that he was sick of it by now. “So I make sure the littles have breakfast, Arisa makes sure they eat lunch, and me or Nao make sure they have dinner. If I’m on a mission, I make sure someone else covers for me,” he added quickly, so they wouldn’t think he’d abandon the kids while he was working. 

“That’s not right,” Shisui said in an undertone, but it seemed more like he was talking to himself, so Iruka didn’t bother to reply.

Rather than dwell on the information Iruka had just given him, Itachi decided to explain the reason for their presence. “We’re here to help you investigate,” he told Iruka, his eyes flicking between him and Nanako.

Absently, Iruka mused that Itachi must really like kids, considering the way his eyes seemed instinctively drawn to the little girl. “Investigate?”

Itachi spared a long moment to stare pointedly at Iruka. “You said there was a thief here. Shisui and I are here to help catch them.”

“What?” Iruka said, positive he hadn’t heard that right. “Why?”

Itachi scowled, his tiny face taking on a far-too-serious expression, his dark eyes flashing dangerously. “Because it’s not right for you to be punished for trying to defend your own private property, and if the members of staff aren’t going to undertake a proper investigation into the disappearing items, then someone else should.”

Once again, Iruka found himself reassessing his view of Itachi. The Uchiha had no real reason to help him, there was no benefit to this beyond simply  _ helping. _ Somehow, he hadn’t expected such a selfless gesture, and he was at a loss for how to respond. To his horror, he felt his eyes prickle with the beginnings of tears, but they were  _ happy _ tears, because Itachi apparently cared enough to not only come and help Iruka, but recruit some additional help, too. Iruka had been trying to deal with this on his own for so long, and he’d been feeling so helpless for weeks now. “Wow,” he said, hating that his voice broke a little. “You don’t know how much that means to me.” 

“So what do you know so far?” Shisui asked, tugging out one of the chairs at the dining room table and sitting down. 

Following his lead, Iruka and Itachi sat, too. 

“It’s,” Iruka paused, glancing around nervously to make sure no one was nearby. “It’s one of the staff members,” he said in a low tone. “They’re keeping the stolen things in a little safe under the floorboards in the office. A few of the earlier stolen items have gone missing - they might have been sold.”

Shisui’s expression darkened. “They’re stealing from the children under their care?”

Iruka winced, and nodded. “It seems that way. I’m pretty sure I’ve figured out which staff member is behind it, since she’s the one who tripped my trap while I was out on a mission. She…” Iruka felt his voice begin to feel strained with emotion, and he paused to swallow once or twice before continuing. “She took my mother’s jewelry box. It’s still in the hidden safe. At least, it was before I left.” He took a shuddering breath. “I haven’t had the chance to check since then.”

Shisui’s expression had moved from ‘dark’ to downright thunderous. “That’s unacceptable,” he said. “I know the council uses the Konoha orphan fund to not only cover the cost of running this establishment, but to pay the staff a reasonable wage for their services. There’s no reason for them to be _ stealing _ from the residents.”

Iruka sighed. “Well, no  _ good _ reason, anyway.”

“True,” Itachi agreed, “Greed is a powerful motivator.”

“So we have a few options,” Shisui said. “But I think our best options would be to stake out the safe for a few days and make sure we have someone watching it twenty-four hours a day.”

Iruka leaned forward, wondering what the logic was for that decision. “Why do you think we should watch the safe?”

“I know you have a suspect,” Shisui said, glancing at Iruka with a look that was calculating but not dismissive. “But have you eliminated the possibility that there may be more than one thief?”

Iruka considered. “Honestly, I more eliminated suspects based on the necessary skill, and there are only two former shinobi here, the others are civilians. But the person I most suspect now is actually a civilian, so…”

“Civilians are not incapable of trickery and theft,” Shisui assured Iruka, his voice dropping into a deeper register as his brows furrowed. “Never underestimate an opponent simply because they lack specialized training.”

Itachi nodded seriously. “Statistically, shinobi are less likely to be killed by a civilian than a fellow shinobi, but the percentage is still a significant number. I’m sure that carries over to nonviolent crimes like theft, too.”

“I guess you’re right,” Iruka said slowly. “I thought it would be hard for them to steal the stuff without being noticed, but I guess it’s  _ possible _ a civilian could have stolen stuff, too.”  _ And Eriko was the one who set off my trap, _ he thought,  _ so if it’s her then she isn’t very skilled at theft. Would you need to be good at stealing to take things from orphans, though? _

“So we’ll watch the safe for a few days, and keep track of who looks into it and at what time.” Shisui said, then frowned, glancing between Itachi and Iruka. “Are you two going to be sent out on a mission again soon?”

“ ‘Sent out’ isn’t how I’d put it,” Itachi grumbled, his little baby cheeks puffing out in a display of almost uncharacteristic irritation. “More like  _ coddled. _ Yuki-sensei still isn’t letting us take any C-rank missions.”

“I really wish he would,” Iruka said, “I could use the cash, especially if I’m going to move out soon.”

Shisui frowned. “Are you not saving your allowance?”

Fighting the urge to scowl, if only because Shisui seemed genuinely baffled as opposed to just being judgemental, Iruka threw his hands in the air. “What allowance? I’m supposed to be grateful I at least have a roof over my head, remember?”

Itachi and Shisui were  _ both _ frowning now. “I thought…” Shisui was staring intently at Iruka now. “Do you not get any spending money?”

“Not until I started running D-rank missions,” Iruka snapped, feeling uncharitable. He didn’t  _ like _ being reminded he was poor in addition to being the worst member of their team and also on the verge of being evicted because of his experimental tag trap. “I don’t know if you forgot, but some of us don’t  _ have _ parents to give us pocket money,” he added nastily. 

Itachi shot Iruka with a venomous look. “You don’t have to be rude,” he said. “We know what you are. It’s not like we missed the sign out front.”

“Itachi,” Shisui said, sending a disapproving glance in the direction of the tiny Uchiha, “that was uncalled-for.”

The idea that someone would actually take  _ his _ side over Itachi’s was mind-blowing, and Iruka struggled to find words of his own. “I was rude, too,” he said after a moment. “It’s just… I’ve never had my own pocket money until we started taking missions, but it’s definitely not enough for the move to an apartment, and I’m going to be thirteen soon. It’s stressful.”

“But that’s the problem,” Shisui murmured, sounding concerned. “Part of the Konoha orphan fund supports those orphans whose parents didn’t leave anything for them. And orphans who do still receive a small stipend.”

“Yeah, that’s what pays for all this,” Iruka gestured around the room.

“No, I mean it’s meant to be pocket money,” Shisui clarified. “You’re supposed to have a few hundred ryos each month.”

“A few  _ hundred?” _ Iruka cried, before realising they were supposed to be having a clandestine meeting and lowered his voice. “A few hundred?” he repeated in a low tone. “I don’t think I even  _ saw _ money like that until we started running missions!”

“This is starting to sound incredibly suspicious,” Shisui said. “I think we should probably talk to someone who knows more about the situation.”

“We could ask the Hokage,” Iruka suggested, “The Sandaime probably knows about the orphan fund, so he’d be able to let us know.”

Shisui’s eyes widened in surprise. “You can get an audience with the Hokage?” he exclaimed, leaning forward with interest. “How long will it take?”

“Uh…” Iruka realized, suddenly, that he couldn’t exactly say something like  _ It depends on how long it takes for me to annoy the ANBU outside to the point that they drag me inside to see the Sandaime just to get me out of their hair. _ “I visit him for tea about once a week,” he said instead. “I’m sure he’d be fine with you guys coming with me.”

Shisui and Itachi exchanged glances. Itachi shrugged a moment later. “One of us should start watching the safe,” he said. “While the other two go to the Hokage.”

“Why don’t you two go,” Shisui suggested. “I’ll stay and watch the office.”

“You can get into the ceiling crawl space just up this hall,” Iruka told him. “I’ll show you before we go.” He turned back to Nanako, who had finished eating her crackers, lifting her out of the high chair. “Right after I get her off to the room for her nap.”  _ And change into something not covered in mashed peas, _ he added mentally.

Nanako squirmed in his arms a little, but Iruka quickly found a way to hold her, one arm scooped under her legs while he held her torso upright, cradled against his chest. “You can wait here,” he offered, but Itachi and Shisui were already standing. 

“We’ll go together,” Itachi said. “Besides, I’m curious to see the layout, especially if we’re going to need to catch a thief at some point, it would be good to know the building.”

“Okay,” Iruka agreed, “follow me, then.”

* * *

“Is this how you usually arrange a meeting with the Sandaime Hokage?” Itachi asked, a skeptical eyebrow creeping up his forehead, nearing his hairline. 

“How would  _ you _ arrange a meeting?” Iruka countered. “It’s not like they just let you walk into Hokage Tower.”

“Yes, but aren’t you already in trouble at the orphanage for pranks?” Itachi said, his other eyebrow rising to join the first. “There’s got to be a better way.”

“Honestly, at this point?” Iruka double-checked his equipment and nodded to himself, “I think if I showed up  _ without  _ a prank of some sort, it would be considered suspicious or abnormal behavior.”

“The fact that you  _ behaving sensibly _ would be seen as an abnormality is not comforting,” Itachi pointed out, scowling at Iruka’s experimental tags. “You’re not going to waste those on the ANBU, are you?”

“If I do, it’s my own choice,” Iruka scoffed. “But no. If I make it  _ look _ like I’m setting up a trap, they’ll probably drag me up to the office before I can set it off. Which is actually what I’m counting on, because I don’t actually want to waste any of these.”

“I’m not sure if that’s clever or just cruel,” Itachi said after a long pause. He waited another beat, then decided, “I think it’s a bit of both, actually.”

“Yeah, well, ANBU can take care of themselves,” Iruka said dismissively, turning the corner and spotting the Hokage Tower looming ahead. “You helping or not?” he asked, turning and holding a tag in Itachi’s direction.

“Although I’m technically already complicit by allowing you to do this, if I actually tried anything like that I think my father might disown me,” Itachi said. “He expects… well, not that,” he indicated the tag with a wry smile that seemed out of place on such a young face.

Iruka frowned, withdrawing the tag. “He’d disown you over something that trivial?”

“I don’t know,” Itachi replied honestly. “I’ve never done something this stupid before.”

“Oh come on,” Iruka teased, growing uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was heading. “Antagonizing the ANBU is super fun! You’ll love it.”

“I don’t think I will,” Itachi replied, “but I trust if anyone knows what they’re doing in a situation like this, it’s you.”

“It’ll be  _ fine,” _ Iruka assured Itachi, “I’m not even planning on  _ actually _ pranking them. Just, you know, getting their attention.”

“That doesn’t actually make me feel any better,” Itachi informed him with a sigh and a shake of his head. 

“Just watch and learn,” Iruka told Itachi, despite the fact that Itachi was unlikely to ever pull something like this on his own. That done, he cautiously skirted the alley bordering Hokage Tower, laying down a tag and running some chakra wire across the narrow street before scrambling up the wall, tying it off along one of the windowsills before indicating Itachi join him in the next alley. They worked their way around the tower, tying off chakra wire after chakra wire until  _ finally, _ right around the time Iruka was tying off his second-to-last tag, someone cleared their throat behind him.

“Hey, kid.” The person said in a vaguely annoyed tone of voice. A moment later, they spoke again, their voice sounded slightly strained as they added, “And Uchiha…?”

“This is Sasuke,” Iruka quickly lied, patting Itachi on the shoulder, “I’m showing him the ropes.”

“Perhaps you should reconsider the location of said ‘ropes’,” the ANBU said, holding out a pile of tags and wire. “This isn’t a place for you to play.” The ANBU’s voice was cold, and he seemed to radiate irritation. 

“Well,” Iruka said, ducking his head and filling his voice with over-the-top meekness as he reached for the pile of tags and chakra wire in the ANBU’s hands, “I’ve certainly learned my lesson, if you could just escort me to the Hokage’s office for my usual scolding…”

The ANBU shifted his weight, withdrawing the tags and wire. “What makes you think I’m giving these back?” he said, sounding genuinely surprised. “These aren’t playthings, and I already told you this isn’t a place for you to be playing around.”

“I know they’re not  _ playthings,” _ Iruka snapped, dropping the role of  _ cowed Genin _ for the moment. “But they’re still  _ mine.” _

“Not when you use them for disruptive purposes,” the ANBU replied, balling up the tags and wire and crushing them between his hands. “Run along now.”

“But that’s not - I didn’t mean -” Iruka sputtered, then stared at the ANBU. He rarely tried to actively identify ANBU, more out of courtesy than anything else, but now he found himself wracking his brain, trying to remember if he’d ever met an ANBU with a dog mask before. He didn’t think he had. “Wait,” he said, “I don’t know you. You’re not one of the usual guys.”

The ANBU sighed gustily. “No, kid. I’m not. Now get out of here.”

“But I need to talk to the Hokage!” Iruka protested, beyond caring about his tags at this point. “I, uh… I borrowed a book from his library?”

“If you wanted to see the Hokage you should have gone through the proper channels,” the ANBU told him stiffly. “Now go.”

“But I-”

“Kid.” The ANBU’s tone was cutting. “Get out of here.”

“Let’s just go, Iruka,” Itachi said, tugging on Iruka’s shirtsleeve. “It’s fine. We’ll ask Shisui to come talk to him later.”

“No,” Iruka said, anger surging in him as he turned to glare at dog-face. “I’m going in, and I’m going to talk to old gramps up in his office.”

The ANBU took an aborted step backwards, like he had been physically struck by the force of Iruka’s disrespectful tone. “Take one more step towards that building and I’ll drag you  _ and _ your little Uchiha friend straight to Torture and Interrogation,” the ANBU told Iruka, tone too calm to really be described as angry, but certainly bearing more animosity than Iruka felt the situation truly deserved. 

“I just want to talk to him!” Iruka yelled, “For like, five minutes, all right?”

“Then you can go through the  _ proper _ procedures instead of doing whatever the hell  _ this _ is,” the ANBU replied, shaking the tags clenched in his fist. “Learn some respect, kid.”

“I just need to-”

“How many times do I have to say  _ no?” _ the ANBU said sharply. “You have ten seconds to leave.”

“Iruka,” Itachi said, his voice shaking. “We should go.”

“He’s not going to take us to Torture and Interrogations,” Iruka told Itachi. “He’s just trying to scare us.”

“He’s succeeding,” Itachi hissed. “Let’s just  _ go.” _

“You should listen to your little friend,” the dog-masked ANBU said. “He’s right.”

Nothing about this was right. Iruka just wanted to talk to the old man Hokage, drink his stupid tea, tell him about the orphanage thief, and figure out what to do about Eriko. Scowling, Iruka shoved past the ANBU, marching for the door of Hokage Tower. A moment later, the ANBU had him by his collar, dragging him away from the building with seemingly little effort. 

“Hey!” Iruka protested, trying to wrench out of the ANBU’s grasp to no avail. “Let go!”

“I told you what I was going to do,” the ANBU said in a tired voice. “Don’t get mad now that I’ve followed through.”

Iruka tugged a few more times, and realized there was very little chance of him getting out of this. Still, the ANBU didn’t seem to care about Itachi, which was probably a good thing, since Itachi had been the one wanting to leave anyway. “Get out of here!” Iruka told his teammate, more than a little surprised to see the little Uchiha morosely following Iruka. Trying once more to free his collar from the grasp of the more-serious-about-his-threat-than-Iruka-had-realized ANBU, Iruka tried again. “Seriously, just go! There’s no reason for  _ both _ of us to get in trouble!”

The ANBU didn’t even bother glancing back at the words, proving to Iruka that he really didn’t care about bringing Itachi along.

“It’s okay,” Itachi told Iruka, still following. “I shouldn’t have let you do it, I’m also responsible, so I won’t let you take the punishment alone.”

“Well then at least help me get him off me!” Iruka protested, “and then we’ll  _ both _ get out of here!”

“Iruka.” Itachi took a moment to stare at Iruka, hard. “We may be friends, but I am  _ not _ fighting an ANBU for you just because you messed up a prank.”

“It wasn’t even a real prank!” Iruka protested. “And he ruined all my stuff, too! Tiger would have given them back,” he added, thinking of the ANBU that usually took him to the Sandaime Hokage when he set his traps. He should have checked first to make sure that Tiger had been watching, and none of this would have happened! Instead, he’d ended up with  _ Dog-mask, _ he thought, tossing a scowl over his shoulder at the dog-masked ANBU, who was still dragging him through the street. People were giving them a wide berth, for obvious reasons. Itachi looked like he wanted to sink into the ground and disappear forever, but apparently his loyalty to Iruka was stronger than his shame, because he kept following them, his face even paler than usual. 

Iruka  _ really _ didn’t think the ANBU was going to take him all the way to T&I, but by the time they’d covered a good portion of the distance, he was coming to the conclusion that maybe this ANBU really  _ was _ going to take him there. What was he even being charged with? Reckless pranks? Badly-concealed chakra wire? “I didn’t do anything!” Iruka protested, dragging his feet along the ground, uselessly trying to wriggle out of the ANBU’s grasp. “What are you even going to tell them you brought me in for?”

“Suspicious weaponry, for one thing,” the ANBU said. “Weaponry of an  _ unknown origin, _ I might add.”

“What suspicious weaponry?” Iruka demanded, genuinely confused. “They’re just  _ tags! _ Exploding tags!” 

“I’ve never seen exploding tags that looked like this,” the ANBU replied, shaking the hand still crushing Iruka’s tags and chakra wire in a tight grip. “I’m sure they’d love to find out where you got your grubby little hands on materials of this caliber.” 

_ Grubby little -?!  _ For a minute, Iruka was so outraged by the name calling that he didn’t even register the other problem with the ANBU’s accusation. “Those are  _ my _ tags!” he snapped, “I made them!”

The ANBU seemed unfazed by this information. “Sure you did.”

“He really did make them,” Itachi piped up, still trailing along behind them, not really adding to the spectacle but certainly not distracting from it in any way.

“I’m sure Torture and Interrogations will love to hear all about it,” the ANBU replied. “Oh look - we’re here,” he added, frog-marching Iruka up the steps to the Konoha Intelligence Division’s main building. Iruka glanced back over his shoulder and sure enough, Itachi was still following along behind. 

They got a few confused glances as the ANBU pushed past the people in line and dragged Iruka up to the front. “I have a suspicious person who was laying unfamiliar weapons around the base of Hokage Tower,” he said. “And his accomplice,” he added a moment later, glancing over at Itachi, who  _ really _ looked like he was going to sink into the floor now that they’d stopped moving and everyone in the room was staring at the three of them. 

“Isn’t that an Uchiha?” someone whispered, though Iruka couldn’t see who.

“Are the ANBU trying to make a statement?” someone else muttered. “About a failure to keep the peace?”

Iruka felt his chest tighten at that - he hadn’t considered how it might look for  _ Itachi  _ (son of Fugaku Uchiha, who was head of the Uchiha Clan, which was the clan responsible for policing Konoha) to be caught doing mischief. Especially since there was a longstanding… grudge wasn’t quite the right word, but there was definitely a subtle hostility between the Uchiha clan and the ANBU. And now an ANBU had taken Uchiha Itachi to T&I, and it was  _ all Iruka’s fault. _

“You need to leave,” Iruka told Itachi, “now. This is all my fault, you should just go.”

The ANBU turned his head to glance at Itachi, cocking his head slightly, waiting to see what he would do, but Itachi just shook his head stubbornly. 

“I don’t leave my teammates behind,” he said firmly. “Breaking the rules wasn’t a good decision. But abandoning a friend would be an even worse decision.”

Oddly, this statement almost seemed to affect the ANBU gripping Iruka’s collar more than it did Iruka. His grip tightened sharply, then eased to something a bit more relaxed than before, almost like he was  _ trying _ to appear unaffected by Itachi’s words. 

A moment later the ANBU seemed to shake himself from whatever had made him pause, and he continued speaking to the person at the desk. “We’ll need to find out who the supplier of these materials is,” he added, showing the crumpled handful of tags and chakra wire to the person at the desk, “and discern whether this incident was instigated by a serious intent to harm or if this was simply misguided youthful indulgence.” 

Iruka wanted to show this ANBU just how much  _ misguided youthful indulgence _ he was really capable of, but he was still held fast and he didn’t think he’d get very far even if he did try slipping out of his shirt to escape, much less manage to take back his exploding tags and chakra wire. Instead, he glanced over his shoulder at Itachi and indignantly mouthed the words  _ misguided youthful indulgence? _

Itachi’s dark eyes burned into him, and he just nodded seriously. Right. Itachi was boring and followed the rules, of course he would take the ANBU’s side over Iruka’s when it came to something like this. Though he couldn’t really bring himself to be too upset with him, not after Itachi had come all the way to T&I with him even though he didn’t have to. Instead, he just sighed, shoulders slumping as he finally allowed himself to accept that he was in for a much longer afternoon than he’d anticipated. 

“Right,” the man at the desk said slowly, giving Iruka an exasperated look before turning back to the ANBU. “We’ll definitely prioritize this investigation, because we certainly don’t have any other, more  _ pressing _ intelligence matters to process and evaluate.” The distaste in his tone was palpable, and Iruka wondered how he managed it. 

He wondered if he could learn how to do it, too, because it seemed like even the ANBU wilted under the withering gaze of the T&I intake clerk. That would be a handy skill, Iruka thought. He’d love to make people feel small with a single glance. He knew plenty of people who could make  _ him _ feel small with only a glare, including  _ Itachi, _ who was kindly not really glaring at full strength, sparing some of his energy to glance anxiously around the room and look uncomfortable. 

“Place the evidence in this scroll,” the man at the desk continued, unrolling a sealing scroll and placing it in front of the ANBU. “We’ll process these two for you.”

“Watch out for this one,” the ANBU warned, shaking Iruka none-too-gently. “He’s a flight risk.”

“You mean if we don’t watch him carefully he might… leave?” The man at the desk sounded almost hopeful.

“I won’t let him,” Itachi spoke up. “We need to accept the consequences of our choices.”

The man at the desk almost looked disappointed to hear this. Iruka had the feeling this guy really didn’t want to deal with him. It was a familiar feeling since most people Iruka encountered didn’t want to deal with him. It was the first time someone not wanting to deal with him seemed to be working in his favor, though, and of  _ course _ Itachi was ruining it for him. 

The ANBU glanced back at Itachi. “You didn’t stop him from setting these, how can I trust you to stop him?”

“Simple,” Itachi replied. “I’m not leaving, and Iruka cares about his teammates. So he’ll stay.” 

Iruka opened his mouth to argue, but he really didn’t have a good answer to that, because Itachi was right. Iruka couldn’t in good conscience leave  _ Itachi _ to take the blame for what had been Iruka’s mistake to begin with. “...I could convince you to leave,” Iruka suggested.

“No,” Itachi replied simply, “you couldn’t.”

Iruka scowled at him, mostly because he knew Itachi was right. Once the Uchiha made up his mind there was absolutely no budging it. Sighing heavily, Iruka shook his head. “Fine. I couldn’t.”

“So I’ll just leave them with you, then,” the ANBU said awkwardly, finally releasing Iruka’s collar.

“Yes,  _ Hound,” _ the man behind the desk said with an exasperated look, “you can leave the kids here. I genuinely don’t know  _ why _ they’re here in the first place - no, no, don’t you dare explain it again, you run along and do your ANBU business, we have actual intelligence to gather and at this point you’re just holding up the line.”

Iruka wanted to cheer at the way the ANBU’s - Hound’s - shoulders hitched in irritation. Even if Iruka wasn’t able to talk back to him, at least he could enjoy watching  _ someone _ taking this stick-in-the-mud down a peg or two. 

“Well then,” Hound, aka Dog-Face said, and then basically vanished using probably a body flicker technique. 

The man behind the desk sighed, rolling his eyes. “Show off,” he muttered, then glanced back over his shoulder. “Hey, Kotaro, take over for me, I gotta go  _ interrogate _ some kids about a prank.” He threw verbal air quotes around the word interrogate, which at least made Iruka feel a bit better about the idea of being dragged even  _ further _ into T&I. “All right,” he said, coming around to the front of the desk as another man hopped up to take his place, “Let’s go.”

“Where are we going?” Iruka asked hesitantly. 

“Oh, just one of the interrogation rooms,” the clerk answered. “It’s probably not all that dissimilar to the ones in the Military Police Headquarters,” he added, tossing a look in Itachi’s direction. “Ever been in one of those?”

“Not for questioning,” Itachi answered seriously. “But I’ve been inside them, yes.”

“What about you?” the guy followed up, glancing at Iruka.

It was the first time Iruka wasn’t tugging against the ANBU’s grip, so he took a moment to really look the guy over. He had a few distinctive facial scars running across his face, which momentarily made Iruka feel like maybe they were kindred spirits, even if the guy had more of them and it didn’t look as though his cuts had been quite as clean as Iruka’s had been. His head was covered with a cloth tied tight around his head, and his eyes gleamed with intelligence. 

“I’ve never been taken to the Military Police or T and I,” Iruka said. Usually he just got scolded by the Hokage and force-fed some tea while he finished his homework in the Sandaime’s office, so this whole  _ ‘drag Iruka to T&I for a prank’ _ thing was a pretty new and thoroughly unenjoyable experience. 

“I mean, if the worst you’ve done is irritate a few ANBU I can see why,” the clerk said. “We don’t usually deal with…” he waved a hand, encompassing Iruka and Itachi with a wave. “...this.”

Iruka nodded.

The clerk pushed open one of the first doors down the hall. “Right, hop in here if you would,” he said, still fairly pleasant. 

Iruka walked in, closely followed by Itachi, and the clerk shut the door behind them. “Right,” he said, setting the scroll where Iruka’s tags had been sealed. “So we’ve got two practical jokers on our hands, that’s what this is about, yes?”

“Technically I’m the practical joker, and he was just tagging along,” Iruka explained. “We actually wanted to talk to the Hokage about Konoha orphanage? But I wanted to get in to see him sooner, and usually if I goof off around the tower, one of the ANBU will take me up.”

“It’s how he got most of his homework done for the academy,” Itachi chimed in. “Prank, and then homework in the office.”

Iruka shrugged. “Hey, it worked for me.”

“Until it didn’t,” the clerk said, unrolling the scroll. “So, why was our ANBU friend so bothered by these tags?”

“I don’t know,” Iruka griped, “They’re not dangerous - well, they can be, but certainly not as bad as a normal exploding tag.”

The clerk’s face twitched slightly at that. “What do you mean,  _ not as bad  _ as a _ normal _ exploding tag?”

“They’re his own design,” Itachi piped up from his seat, his legs swinging in the air because he was too short for the adult-sized chair. “So they don’t quite work the same as usual tags.”

The clerk frowned, picking up one of the tags and smoothing it out so he could read it. He stared at it for a long moment, then glanced at Iruka. “You made this?”

Iruka was so tired of people sounding shocked every time they looked at one of his tags. Heaving a sigh, he nodded. “I made them early this morning with the last of my chakra paper.”

“What do they do?” he asked, laying them out.

“Well, that one makes a sleeping gas,” Iruka pointed, “That one makes a flash-bang, that one releases a sticky substance, and that one creates a cloud of itching powder. But they all still function like a regular exploding tag, so they’re more versatile than carrying a canister. And smaller, too. More portable.”

The clerk was eyeing Iruka now. “Impressive. So who taught you to make these?”

“I mean, sometimes I practice with my Jonin sensei,” Iruka said. “But mostly I just learned from books.”

“From books,” the clerk repeated flatly. 

“Yeah,” Iruka said. When no other questions appeared to be forthcoming, he asked, “Is that all?”

“That’s all,” the clerk said, rolling the scroll back up and sealing Iruka’s tags inside. “I’m holding onto these, though. Try not to annoy any more ANBU, at least not while I’m on shift, all right?”

Iruka scowled. “Can you at least pay me for the chakra paper?”

“Sorry kid, no can do,” the clerk replied with a smirk. “Probably should have thought of that before you got caught by an ANBU and dragged to Torture and Interrogations.” He stood then, scooting his chair back. “Right. Well, I’ll go ahead and contact your families and have them come pick you up.”

“Wait,” Iruka said, “Families?”

“We can’t just let you walk around here unsupervised,” the clerk replied.

“But I’m a Genin,” Iruka protested. “Doesn’t that mean I get treated like an adult?”

“Genin who  _ act _ like adults get treated like adults,” the clerk shot back. “Would you prefer I sent word to your Jonin-sensei?”

Shit. Yuuki-sensei would be so disappointed. He might end up hating Iruka for this. He couldn’t cause him any trouble! Better to bother the people who already hated him instead of making new enemies. “No,” Iruka said, “Please don’t tell my Jonin-sensei.”

“Right,” the clerk said, “Then that’s that. Once someone comes to pick you up, you can leave with them. Until then, stay in this room.”

“But,” Iruka began to protest, but the clerk was out the door before he could finish. “But I don’t  _ have  _ any family,” he said, more because he just wanted to finish his thought than out of any expectation that the clerk could hear him.

“I’m sure they’ll just call the orphanage and have someone come get you,” Itachi said in a small voice.

“Oh sure,” Iruka replied, fighting hard not to snap at Itachi, “the same people who have already kicked me out of my room and are trying to get me kicked out of the orphanage entirely. I’m sure they’ll definitely drop everything to come pick me up from T and I.”

Itachi winced. “Right. Maybe my dad or mom can vouch for you, too?”

“That would be unexpectedly good news,” Iruka noted, “considering it’s  _ my _ fault that you got dragged in here. I don’t think they’ll be feeling especially charitable, do you?”

Itachi blinked slowly, considering Iruka’s statement. “Maybe not. I’ll ask anyway.”

* * *

Within the hour, the clerk was back with a stone-faced Uchiha Fugaku in tow. “Itachi,” said the clan leader of the Uchiha, his voice so hard and cold it made Iruka shiver. 

“Father,” Itachi replied, rising and bowing deeply before turning to the clerk. “Do you know if anyone is coming for Iruka yet?”

The clerk looked surprised. “Oh. No word yet, I’m afraid, but they said they’d send someone when they could.” 

“They’re understaffed and overworked,” Iruka said glumly, slumping back in his chair. “If you wait for them to come I’ll be here for the rest of my  _ life.” _

“That seems like a melodramatic exaggeration,” the clerk told him in a neutral, almost pleasant tone. “But if you’re still here by closing time I’m sure we can find you a nice cell downstairs.”

“Ibiki. Thank you for informing me of my son’s indiscretion,” Fugaku interrupted, turning to bow slightly in the direction of the clerk. “Unless there’s anything else you need…”

“Ah yes, we collected a few interesting exploding tags,” the clerk - Ibiki? - said, withdrawing the sealing scroll from somewhere and spreading it out. “Is it possible that your son has been experimenting?”

Fugaku’s eyebrows lifted as he turned to look at Itachi. “Are you experimenting with tags and seals? You know if you wanted to work on that we could find a tutor for you.”

“They’re not mine,” Itachi said, “Iruka’s the seals expert in our team.”

Fugaku’s dark eyes slid over to land on Iruka. “Indeed,” he said flatly. “Full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Iruka swallowed hard, suddenly anxious. “I guess so,” he agreed. 

Ibiki looked genuinely intrigued, glancing between Itachi and Iruka. “Huh,” he said. “I was almost positive that he,” he pointed to Iruka, “was covering for you with a bullshit story about learning from books.” He nodded to Itachi. 

“It’s not bullshit!” Iruka snapped, sitting up straight. “I made them up myself and tested them myself and read books to try and get better at it myself, and sometimes Yuuki-sensei helps but nobody cared about my tags before so why are they such a big deal now?”

Fugaku was eyeing the tags more closely now, a hint of a frown crossing his features. A moment later he looked back up at Ibiki. “If that’s all?”

“You’re free to go anytime,” Ibiki said, taking the scroll and rolling it up again, sealing away Iruka’s tags. “Stay out of trouble,” he added, winking at Itachi.

“I will,” Itachi promised seriously. He looked back at Iruka. “Can… can Iruka come with us?”

“No can do,” Ibiki said. “I’m sure someone’s coming to get him soon.”

Itachi didn’t look so sure, but a sharp look from his father had him acquiescing. “See you tomorrow, Iruka,” he said. 

“Sorry again,” Iruka said. “You really didn’t have to come with me.”

“Yes, I did,” Itachi replied. “You would have gotten yourself in even more trouble otherwise.”

That was probably true, but not really any of his concern. Itachi seemed determined to  _ make _ it his concern, though. “Whatever,” Iruka said. “See you tomorrow.”

Itachi nodded once, and then followed Fugaku out of the room. Ibiki stood there a moment longer, watching Iruka. “You really learned to make these from a book?” he asked, shaking the sealing scroll.

Iruka sighed. “I don’t know why that’s so hard for people to believe, but yes. I did.”

“Hmm,” Ibiki said, then turned and left the room, locking the door behind him, leaving Iruka alone with his thoughts.

He really hoped Ibiki had been joking about the cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a wayward muse decided to throw Kakashi and Ibiki into this mess, I realized I was going to need at least one more chapter to wrap this up. So much for my "collection of oneshots". It was a good run, but I've officially branched out into multichapter fics for this series. I really think I'll be able to finish it by the next chapter, though. I hope.  
> >.>  
> Fingers crossed!!  
> (I really loved writing Young Ibiki and ANBU Kakashi, I can't wait to bring them back in for reprises!!)


	3. An Important Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka eventually gets out of T&I and arranges a meeting with the Hokage. Hopefully that will be enough to solve the issue.

… he hadn’t been joking about the cell.

Iruka sat on the cot gingerly, glancing around the room. It was dark, and a bit damp, but not really terrible. It was bigger than his room in the orphanage, actually. No shelves or anything, but he didn’t have any belongings with him anyway so a shelf would have been superfluous. 

“Brought you some dinner,” Ibiki said tiredly, wandering into the cell with a bowl of rice topped with sliced onions and pork that had been simmered in a sweet soy-ginger broth. 

“Are you _sure_ you can’t just let me leave?” Iruka asked, accepting the bowl. It smelled good. Iruka hadn’t eaten since breakfast, so he was ravenous. He wasn’t going to show this Ibiki guy how hungry he was, though. 

Ibiki sighed, leaning against the wall of Iruka’s cell. “We processed you, so I need someone to check you out. I’m just following procedure.”

“It’s a stupid procedure,” Iruka muttered. 

“No arguments here,” Ibiki agreed. “About those tags…”

Iruka sighed. “I already _told_ you, I just used books.”

“No, I believe you,” Ibiki said, waving a hand dismissively. “Have you ever tried modifying them for other purposes? Releasing a hallucinogen, or toxic fumes, maybe?”

Iruka blinked in surprise. “No. It’d be too dangerous to test around here.”

“If you had a safe place to test them, do you think you _could?”_ Ibiki pressed. “How do you specify what’s released?”

“I mean, I have to use the right combination of characters or it won’t work. Or it works too well. Or the wrong thing happens,” Iruka explained. “That’s why testing is so important.”

“Right, right,” Ibiki said. “So you think you could create tags to do that, though?”

“Toxic gas? Maybe. Hallucinogen?” Iruka considered it. “I don’t think I know enough about hallucinogens to fit that into a concise layer of two-to-three characters.”

“Could you layer more than one effect into it?” Ibiki asked, eyes fixed on Iruka, an intense look on his face. “Or create condition-release tags?”

“Um,” Iruka thought about it. “I don’t know if that’s possible. None of the books I have talk about that. It might be possible? But I can’t think of how to do something like that.”

“No, I suppose the resources in the section of the Sarutobi Library that you have access to wouldn’t include those sorts of techniques,” Ibiki mused.

Iruka froze. “What?”

“What?” Ibiki parroted back, blinking at Iruka.

“How do you know my books are from the Sarutobi Library?” Iruka demanded.

The man stared back at him for several long seconds. “...because this is the _intelligence division_ of Konoha. Of course I know what books you’ve been using. I started doing some digging as soon as the Uchiha kid left. You’re an interesting one, Iruka.”

Iruka wasn’t sure what being _interesting_ meant, but it didn’t sound good, exactly. “Oh. Okay,” he said cautiously. “Um. Glad to hear that I’m… interesting?”

Ibiki huffed softly in amusement. “You want some better books for your experiments?”

Iruka blinked twice. “What?”

“Do you,” Ibiki pointed, “Want some _books,”_ he pantomimed opening a book with his hands, “for your research?” he concluded.

“I know what you said, I was just surprised,” Iruka grumbled. “Um. What do I have to do?”

Ibiki blinked. “Do? You mean, for the books?” 

“Yeah,” Iruka said. “People don’t usually give me free stuff.”

“Oh, I’m not _giving_ them to you, just loaning them,” Ibiki clarified. “But if you figure out anything interesting, maybe stop by again, tell me how the research is coming along.”

Iruka considered that. “Deal.” 

Ibiki nodded sharply. “I’ll be back to pick up your dishes in an hour. Maybe I’ll bring along some light bedtime reading for you.”

Iruka nodded back, fighting to hide a grin. Maybe this trip to T&I hadn’t been a complete waste after all.

* * *

The book Ibiki had brought Iruka after dinner was a _lot_ more technical and dense than any of his other books. It made his eyes swim at times, and required all of his concentration to follow. But Iruka was determined to read it, and glean what he could from the dense tome. It was more specifically related to seals than tags, but already Iruka had found a few sections that he thought might translate over to tags without much trouble. He’d read until the lights had turned out in the cell block, then stretched out on the lumpy cot and stared at the ceiling for a while until he finally fell asleep. The next morning, Ibiki was back - what kinds of hours did the guy even work? Iruka was pretty sure he wouldn’t have had back to back afternoon shift, night shift, and morning shift, but Ibiki had been around for the whole time Iruka had been here. It was weird. 

This time, Ibiki didn’t come to his cell alone. He brought someone with him.

“Iruka?” the Sandaime said, standing outside his cell, looking vaguely concerned and more than a little irritated. “Why are you in here?”

“Technically it’s just because no one’s come to check him out,” Ibiki explained. “That’s why I called you, Lord Hokage.”

“Yes, but why was he processed at all?” The Hokage gave Iruka a concerned look. “Did something happen?”

“Just an overenthusiastic ANBU,” Ibiki replied. “Something about unusual weapons and youthful indulgence or something. To be honest, I didn’t even write it down. I think he just wanted to scare the kid straight.”

The Hokage stifled an amused snort before glancing at Iruka and lifting a solitary eyebrow. “Did it work? Are you scared straight?”

Iruka considered the question. “Uh. If I say no, are you going to make me stay longer?”

Outside the cell, Ibiki burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re a clever one,” he said. 

Iruka wasn’t entirely sure whether that was a compliment or not, but chose to take it as one.

“I’m not going to make you stay,” the Hokage assured him.

“Okay, then the truth is I’m not really scared at all, but I think Itachi will kill me if I try and pull something like this again,” Iruka said. “So I guess it halfway worked out?”

“I kinda feel bad for that Uchiha kid,” Ibiki nodded. “He looked like he’d seen a ghost when they got marched in.”

“I don’t think he’s ever been in trouble once in his life,” Iruka mused. “He’s basically a perfect genius, so…”

The Hokage tutted. “No one is perfect, Iruka.”

“Itachi’s the closest to it, then,” Iruka shot back. “Or he was. Do you think his dad thinks I’ve corrupted him?”

Ibiki snorted. “I wouldn’t put it past him.” 

“Ibiki,” the Hokage said, giving him a _look._ Ooh. Iruka recognized that one. “That’s enough.”

“Yes sir, Lord Hokage,” Ibiki said, immediately standing at attention. 

“Let’s get Iruka out of here,” the Hokage said, then glanced at Iruka questioningly. “I heard you wanted to talk to me yesterday?”

“Yeah. Itachi wanted to come too,” Iruka said. “I’m. Uh. Not sure if he wants to come anymore, though.” 

“How about this,” the Hokage proposed, popping open Iruka’s cell door and indicating for him to follow. “I’ll make some room in my schedule around two this afternoon, and inform the ANBU to expect your arrival. If Itachi wants to come too, he can join you.”

“What if it’s Shisui instead?” Iruka asked, remembering that the other Uchiha had also volunteered to help catch the orphanage thief.

The Hokage’s eyebrows jumped slightly as he turned to glance at Iruka. “If Shisui wishes to come, he’s welcome, too.”

“Okay,” Iruka said, following the Hokage down the long, winding corridors of the Konoha Intelligence Division. “Thanks.” 

* * *

It wasn’t until Iruka was left to his own devices that he realized he had no idea how to find the Uchiha compound. He also didn’t know if Itachi had managed to give Shisui a break from observing the Orphanage office. Ultimately he decided that dropping in at the orphanage first would probably be the best option, so he headed that way. Upon arrival, he checked to make sure the smaller kids had been fed breakfast (they had) and wandered into the crawlspace he’d shown Shisui the day before. Shisui was still there, eyes fixed on the office interior.

“Shisui?” Iruka whispered, surprised to see him _still there._

“Oh, hey Iruka,” Shisui whispered back, glancing briefly over his shoulder before returning his gaze to the office. “Someone finally came and got you from T and I, huh?”

Iruka frowned. “You know about that?” 

“I was watching the office yesterday,” Shisui reminded him. “I was here when they got the message.”

“Oh. Right,” Iruka said, feeling stupid. “They left me there overnight. The Hokage came to get me out this morning.” 

Shisui’s gaze left the office again as he turned his head to fully stare at Iruka. “The _Hokage_ came for you? What about the orphanage staff?”

Iruka unsuccessfully resisted the urge to scowl. “If it were up to them I’d probably be stuck in there indefinitely. Or at least until someone needed the cell for a _real_ detainee.”

Shisui made a face, turning back to the office. “That’s just wrong,” he said, “How hard is it to spare a fifteen minute walk to the Konoha Intelligence Division?”

Iruka snorted softly. “You’re assuming that they think I’m _worth_ thirty minutes of their time. They don’t.” 

Shisui said nothing, but his shoulders tensed at the words. Several seconds passed before he spoke again, his voice subdued. “So you got the chance to speak with the Hokage, then?”

“Oh!” Iruka felt his face heat. “No, but he made time for a meeting this afternoon at two.”

“Do you want me to come this time?” Shisui asked, sparing another glance over his shoulder. 

“If you want to,” Iruka offered. “I mean, you’ve been in here for almost twenty-four hours, now, you could use a break.”

Shisui chuckled at that. “What? No, I just got here about an hour ago. Itachi spelled me last night around seven.”

Iruka frowned. “I was pretty sure his dad would have grounded him for life,” he confessed. “He seemed _real_ upset yesterday.”

“I’m sure he was,” Shisui agreed, “But Itachi’s never misbehaved before, so I doubt his parents expected him to sneak out after he’d already gotten in trouble once that day.”

Iruka winced. “I owe him one,” he said. “Maybe he won’t be in as much trouble if we catch the thief?” 

“I’m not sure,” Shisui answered. “It probably won’t make much of a difference. Anyway, his parents aren’t the sort to go around looking for him if he’s wandered off. They know he’ll come home eventually.”

That didn’t make Iruka feel any better about getting him in trouble in the first place. “So do you want to come to the meeting, or keep watching the office?” 

Shisui considered the question. “I’ll watch the office,” he volunteered. “You and Itachi can meet with the Hokage.” 

“Okay,” Iruka agreed. “I’ve never actually been to the Uchiha compound,” he admitted a moment later. “I’m not sure I know how to get there.”

“Just ask one of the Military Police to point you in the right direction,” Shisui said. “It’s on the edge of town, near the forest.”

Iruka grimaced. “Law enforcement and I haven’t exactly been on good terms lately.”

Shisui snorted. “They’re not ANBU,” he said. “And besides, you’re just asking for directions. There’s nothing suspicious about that.”

Skeptical, Iruka chose not to respond to that. “I guess i should get going then. Thanks for watching the office.”

“It’s the least I could do,” Shisui assured him. “I hope the meeting goes well.”

Iruka nodded, and scooted back down the crawlspace to the ductwork’s open grate, making sure no one was around before sliding out and dusting himself off. Next stop: The Uchiha Compound.

* * *

It took awhile for Iruka to get his bearings, and even longer to find a Konoha Military Police officer who didn’t look like they were already having a bad day. Was the sour look _also_ an Uchiha trait? Because it seemed like Itachi was already growing into it, and to date, nearly every Uchiha that Iruka encountered had that nasty look seared into their expression. Shisui seemed to be the one exception, though admittedly Itachi hadn’t given Iruka one of those looks in a while. These days, Itachi mostly settled for _disappointed_ and _vaguely exasperated_ looks. Which, considering everything Iruka put him through, was probably fair.

“Hello,” Iruka said in his most polite tone of voice, “sir.”

The Uchiha glanced down at him with a vaguely disgruntled look. Considering the last few looks he’d been given by Uchiha officers, Iruka counted this as a positive sign. 

“Yes?” the officer said, looking Iruka over. “Can I help you?”

“I’m looking for the Uchiha compound,” Iruka explained. “I’m meeting one of my Genin Team members there.”

One of the Uchiha’s eyebrows lifted ever-so-slightly, though it appeared to be an expression of interest rather than skepticism. “The compound’s a few blocks that way, but it’s a pretty big neighborhood. Who’s your team member? I’ll point you in the right direction.”

“Itachi,” Iruka answered, and this time the Uchiha officer reacted with more than just vague curiosity.

“You’re on _Itachi’s_ Genin Team?” The Uchiha asked, suddenly eyeing Iruka with increased interest, his gaze almost predatory. “What’s that like?”

“It’s fine,” Iruka said, not liking the look in the man’s eyes one bit. “He’s a good teammate, and an excellent shinobi.”

“Hm,” the man said thoughtfully. “You’ll be looking for Fugaku’s house, I suppose.”

“Yes,” Iruka said, quickly adding, “sir.”

“Right, well, it’ll be down this road about five blocks,” the man explained, pointing. “Once you’re in the compound, continue on to the end of the road, hang a right, and follow it down until you reach the last house on the street.”

Iruka nodded, repeating the instructions. “Five blocks, enter the compound, go to the end of the road, turn right and follow _that_ road until the last house.”

“You got it, kid,” the Uchiha said with a serious nod. 

“Thank you,” Irka said, and jogged down the street in the direction the man had pointed. Finding Itachi’s house was turning out to be easier than he’d expected. 

At least, that’s what he thought until he was stopped at the gateway to the Uchiha compound by _another_ Uchiha with that ubiquitous _I-just-sucked-on-a-lemon_ look on her face. “Hey kid,” she said, “where do you think you’re going?”

“I’m going to meet my genin teammate,” Iruka answered, trying to sound respectful. “He lives here.”

“Oh really?” the Uchiha looked Iruka up and down. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“Yes ma’am,” Iruka said, forcing a smile he didn’t feel. “It’s my first time meeting him, he usually comes to meet me.”

“Then why don’t you have him come meet you again this time?” the Uchiha replied with a sharp look. “This is a residential district, so unless you’re planning to stay for dinner, you can just wait for him at the training grounds.” 

Iruka wasn’t sure when the Uchiha clan had become so insular. Or were they always like that? He wasn’t especially familiar with them, but he didn’t think that there were any districts of Konoha where only certain families were allowed to enter. Then again, how would he know that? He had no family. Not anymore, anyway. Maybe the Uchiha compound had always been like that? Though he thought he remembered the Uchiha clan used to be located in a more central part of Konoha. So maybe the change had happened after they’d been moved here, to the outskirts of the village, in the aftermath of the Kyuubi attack almost three years ago. 

“He invited me over to meet his little brother,” Iruka lied, because surely that was an excuse that would grant him access to a residential district. The woman couldn’t expect Itachi to bring his little brother to the training grounds, right? “So I don’t think the training grounds would be a good option for us. Sorry.” He tried his best to look apologetic and not smug. It must have worked, because the Uchiha standing at the gate sighed. 

“Fine,” she said after a long moment. “Do you know where you’re going?”

“Yes ma’am,” Iruka replied. “End of this road, then I take a right and go to the last house.”

The woman’s eyes widened. “You’re going to Fugaku’s house?”

“Yes,” Iruka answered seriously. “Itachi is on my Genin Team.”

“Ah,” she said, sounding uncomfortable. “I see. Well then, I don’t want to keep you. Run along.” She stepped back, granting Iruka access to the Uchiha compound. 

“Thank you!” Iruka said brightly, still forcing his smile until the Uchiha turned away and Iruka could drop the _polite child_ act. He jogged down the road, taking in the sights. It was pretty quiet at the moment, which made sense, seeing as most of the Uchiha would be at work right now. It didn’t take long for him to reach the end of the main road, at which point he turned right and kept walking until he reached the house at the end of the street.

It was big, but not ostentatious. It looked comfortable, though, much more comfortable than the run-down orphanage. The house was single story, and made of wood. It looked like a traditional construction, with sliding doors and a simple gate leading to the front door. Cautiously, Iruka stepped through the gate, walked up to the door, and knocked. 

When the door opened, it wasn’t Itachi who stood inside the door but a woman with long black hair, wearing an apron. On her hip perched a small boy with huge dark eyes set in a round face that was framed with feathery black hair. 

“Hello,” Iruka said quickly, reprising his _polite and personable child_ act. “Is Itachi home?” 

The woman - presumably Uchiha Mikoto - gazed down at Iruka for a long moment, her eyes narrowing. “And you are?” she said slowly, her voice dry.

Oof. Iruka had heard _that_ tone of voice before. “I’m Iruka,” he said brightly, as if he hadn’t noticed the iciness of her tone. “Umino Iruka. Is this Sasuke?” he added, glancing at the small boy on her hip and smiling at him. “He’s even cuter than Itachi said.” 

“Hm,” Mikoto said, still not moving from the doorway, glaring at Iruka. “Umino Iruka. So you’re the one who got Itachi involved in that mess yesterday?” 

Iruka didn’t know how to deflect such a direct question. “I… yes.” He bowed deeply, scrambling for an adequate apology. “I’m terribly sorry for the trouble I caused him and your family due to my misbehavior,” he said, which was mostly true, adding to the sincerity in his tone. “Itachi has been a good influence on me, but I still get into trouble sometimes. It’s a shortcoming.” This was also mostly true. Although Itachi’s influence on Iruka was relatively minor, Iruka hoped that a bit of flattery might give him an advantage. 

“Hm.” Mikoto didn’t seem the type to be easily flattered. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to talk to Itachi,” Iruka said, hoping that this was the right thing to say.

“What about?” Mikoto pressed, dark eyes still fixed on Iruka like she could see through him.

“About a meeting,” Iruka said. “Shisui said I should bring him.”

Mikoto’s eyes widened slightly, the forbidding expression on her face softening ever-so-slightly. “Shisui?”

“Yes,” Iruka said quickly, pressing the advantage. “He thought it would be best if Itachi joined me for my meeting with the Hokage this afternoon.”

Now Itachi’s mother was blinking rapidly. “A meeting with the Hokage? What about?”

“The orphanage,” Iruka said simply. “I’d rather not say more until after the meeting. If that’s all right.”

Eyeing him with a mixture of apprehension and suspicion, Mikoto _finally_ stepped aside, indicating that Iruka could enter. “Come inside,” she said. “I’ll call Itachi. For some reason he decided to sleep in this morning.” She shot Iruka a look that _clearly_ conveyed she knew exactly why Itachi was _‘sleeping in’_ at the moment. 

Iruka nodded and tried not to look guilty. He wasn’t sure he succeeded, but Mikoto had allowed him inside, so that had to mean something. He carefully removed his sandals at the door, slipping on a pair of house slippers that Mitoko had pulled out and set down for him.

“I’ll go wake Itachi,” Mikoto told him, moving across the room to set Sasuke down on a small playmat on the floor. “Please wait here.”

Iruka didn’t miss the way Mikoto hadn’t offered him a seat or something to drink. He was not a guest here. He didn’t take it personally, though. Considering the amount of trouble he’d gotten Itachi into yesterday, the fact that he’d been allowed inside at all was something of a miracle. That didn’t mean Iruka wasn’t going to do whatever he pleased while waiting for Itachi. As Mikoto moved down the hall, Iruka crouched next to Sasuke’s playmat, eyeing his teammate’s younger brother.

“Hey,” he greeted. “I’m Iruka.”

“I’m Sasuke,” the kid replied, staring at him for a long moment before speaking again. “What happened?” he asked, pointing to Iruka’s face.

Iruka reached up to brush his scar, a little surprised. “Oh, this? Haha, it’s an old scratch that didn’t heal well.”

Sasuke nodded seriously. “You should be more careful.”

Iruka chuckled at that. “I’ll do my best.”

That seemed enough to pacify the boy, who lapsed into silence, watching Iruka with eerily familiar dark eyes. He looked a lot like Itachi, but he certainly wasn’t identical to Iruka’s teammate. He seemed cute. Itachi had possibly undersold how cute his little brother was. Not that Itachi was really the sort to enthuse about anything, so really, Iruka should have expected that.

“What did you do today?” Iruka asked the toddler after a moment, mostly to make conversation.

“I drawed a picture,” Sasuke informed him seriously. 

“Oh really?” Iruka asked. “Where? Can I see it?” 

Shrugging, Sasuke stood and toddled across the floor to the low table, grasping a sheet of paper that was nearly as big as he was. “I painted it,” he explained, showing it to Iruka as he toddled back over. “It’s me, and mommy, and daddy, and big brother.” He pointed to four indistinguishable scribbles. 

“Oh yeah, I can see that,” Iruka enthused, pointing to the one that Sasuke had declared Itachi. “You got Itachi’s hair just right.” 

“Stop patronizing my brother,” Itachi said from the doorway. “It’s rude.”

“I’m not being patronizing,” Iruka protested, then turned back to Sasuke. “That’s a great picture. Show it to Itachi.”

“Mother is trying to teach him to write,” Itachi said, glancing down at the picture Sasuke was now holding up to him and smiling, “but he hasn’t mastered it yet.”

“He tried to write your names, I think,” Iruka indicated some scribbles that looked like they might have been half-mangled hiragana. “Does this say _big brother?”_

Sasuke nodded seriously, pointing to more scribbles on the page. “This is mommy. This is daddy.” 

They were still just a bunch of scribbles, but if he squinted, Iruka thought that he could maybe make out a letter or two in the mess of ink. “That’s great,” Iruka said, grinning at Sasuke. “Keep it up, I’m sure you’ll be writing even more words soon.”

Itachi glanced between Sasuke and Iruka, frowning slightly. “Are we going?” he asked. “Mother said we had a meeting.”

“Right,” Iruka popped to his feet, reaching down and ruffling Sasuke’s hair. “Thanks for showing me your great picture.”

“Be good for mother,” Itachi told Sasuke. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, big brother! Bye, Iruka!” Sasuke waved.

“Bye-bye!” Iruka waved back, grinning at the kid as they exited the house. “So that’s Sasuke, huh?”

Itachi’s face still held a soft smile. “Yeah. That’s Sasuke.”

“He’s a smart kid,” Iruka noted. “Already learning to write? That’s impressive.”

“That’s when you’re supposed to start teaching kids to write,” Itachi replied modestly, before a small smile stole across his features. “You’re right, though. He is smart.”

“He’s got a good brother to teach him things,” Iruka replied with a grin. 

“Hm,” Itachi replied in a noncommittal tone. He sounded _a lot_ like his mom when he said it.

Iruka burst out laughing. “Oh man, you sound like your mom!”

Raising an eyebrow, Itachi stared at him. “Is that a problem?”

Taking a deep breath, Iruka tried to calm himself. “I guess not, it was just funny.”

“Oh.” Itachi continued to walk with Iruka. “Good.” He turned to Iruka with a frown. “When exactly did they come and get you? I waited at the orphanage all night.”

Iruka grimaced. “The orphanage staff?”

Itachi nodded, his expression falling as he began to put two and two together. “They never came for you,” he said softly.

“Yeah,” Iruka nodded, his frustration rising once more at the memory. He’d _known_ they wouldn’t send anyone, but it had still stung. “The Hokage let me out this morning and agreed to meet with me at two this afternoon. I went to the orphanage first, and Shisui said to take you with me to the meeting, so I came to get you.”

Itachi glanced up at the sky. “We probably have another hour until the meeting. Why didn’t you wait to come get me?”

“I wasn’t sure how long it would take to find your house,” Iruka confessed. “I’ve never been there before.”

Itachi nodded slowly, but he still seemed a bit grumpy. Probably because he hadn’t had much time to sleep. “That makes sense.”

“If you’re still tired, you can go back and take a nap,” Iruka offered. “You couldn’t have slept more than three hours.”

“I’ll sleep tonight,” Itachi assured him, even though the bags under his eyes were deeper than usual. “It’s fine.”

Iruka nodded. “Well then, while we wait, why don’t we go grab some dango?”

Itachi’s eyes sparkled at the suggestion, even though he tried to sound nonchalant when he replied. “I suppose I could eat some dango.”

Iruka rolled his eyes. It was hilarious that Itachi insisted on keeping up the pretense of not caring about dango when the rest of his team had figured out his penchant for the sweet months ago. “Great! Let’s go, then!”

Itachi nodded, a small smile curving his lips. “Yes. Let’s go.”

* * *

After finishing their dango and wandering back in the direction of Hokage tower, it was actually Iruka who spotted their adversary first. “Don’t look now, but that dog-masked ANBU from yesterday is one of the tower guards again today,” he whispered.

“Why are you whispering?” Itachi asked, though he glanced around nervously. “That just makes you look suspicious.”

No more suspicious than nervously glancing around, Iruka thought, but chose not to say anything on the matter. “I just hope he doesn’t bother us again today,” he grumbled.

“Well, you’re not setting any traps today, so he has no reason to bother us,” Itachi replied seriously. 

“Sure, you _say_ that, but -”

“Gentlemen,” the dog-mask ANBU was suddenly standing in front of them, arms folded over his chest. “Care to explain what you’re doing here?”

“We have a meeting with the Hokage at two,” Iruka said firmly. 

“Oh? Is that so?” the dog-mask ANBU glanced over his shoulder. 

On cue, another ANBU stepped out of the shadows, practically appearing from nowhere. “It checks out, _Hound,”_ the second ANBU, wearing a Tiger mask, said. “The Hokage has a meeting at two with Umino Iruka and guests.”

Hound - apparently the dog-mask ANBU’s codename (Iruka vaguely remembered hearing him called that at T&I yesterday, too) - tilted his head slightly, eyeing Iruka. “Huh. Decided to go through the proper channels this time?”

“Not exactly,” Iruka spat back, still a bit sore about being left in a cell overnight. “No one from the orphanage came for me yesterday, so the Hokage came to collect me from Intelligence Headquarters this morning. He offered to meet with me, and I agreed to it.”

Hound stiffened a little at the antagonism in Iruka’s tone, but when he spoke again, his voice sounded completely disaffected. “Not exactly the accepted procedure, but it’s definitely an improvement over setting a number of suspicious explosives around the tower.”

Oh, how dearly Iruka wished to shove some _suspicious explosives_ up this ANBU’s -

“Thank you, ANBU-san,” Itachi said quickly, grabbing Iruka’s arm so hard that it _hurt,_ and starting to drag him towards the doorway. “We’ll keep that in mind for the next time we make an appointment.”

Hound watched them go, and even though Iruka didn’t normally ascribe emotion to figures as enigmatic as ANBU, he was almost positive the man looked exasperated. “See that you do,” he said in a neutral tone, but his eyes seemed to follow them the whole way into the tower.

Once inside, Iruka expected Itachi’s grip to loosen, but instead it got _tighter_ as Itachi _twisted_ his arm, the force of the arm lock forcing Iruka down onto one knee. 

“Ow! Ow! Itachi, _ow!”_ Iruka yelped, slapping his leg hard to indicate a tap out, but Itachi just held him in the arm lock for several long seconds.

“Are you listening?” he asked, his normally calm voice surprisingly sharp. 

Iruka stilled. “Yes?” he said, confused. A moment later, Itachi twisted his arm just a little bit more, and Iruka had to bite back a yelp. Apparently he hadn’t been convincing enough. “Ow! Itachi, let go! I promise I’m listening, what do you want?” 

“You were antagonizing that ANBU again,” Itachi said in a dark tone. 

“I wasn’t-”

Itachi twisted Iruka’s arm a little bit harder.

“Ow! Okay, okay, you’re right, I was being disrespectful,” Iruka admitted. His hand was starting to go numb.

“Have you already forgotten what happened yesterday?” Itachi demanded. There was a level of _threat_ to his tone that Iruka had never heard before.

“I didn’t forget,” Iruka muttered belligerently. “I was just… he was being a jerk again!”

“He’s an _ANBU,”_ Itachi snapped, twisting Iruka’s arm again, probably just to punctuate the point. “So long as he follows orders, he can do whatever he wants. But you’re not like him! _We’re_ not like him! We’re just _genin,_ Iruka! We can’t talk that way to people like him!”

“I can’t feel my fingers,” Iruka said flatly, not wanting to hear it, even though he _knew_ Itachi was right. It was just so frustrating!

“Tell me you understand and I’ll let go,” Itachi replied, voice even. 

“It’s not that I don’t understand,” Iruka said bitterly. “It’s just… I don’t _like_ it.”

“Being a shinobi is about following orders, Iruka,” Itachi snapped. “Sometimes you have to do things you don’t like. And that includes being _respectful,_ even if you don’t feel like it.”

“Being a shinobi is a lot more than just following orders,” Iruka shot back, ignoring the way the numbness was spreading from his fingers to his whole hand at this point. “Weren’t you ever taught that? This village is our _family,_ we fight because we love it and we want to protect it, not just because some jerk who’s stronger than you _says to.”_

Itachi finally released his arm and Iruka cradled it to his chest, trying to massage feeling back into his fingers. “I know that,” Itachi sighed. “But in order to protect people, there has to be a chain of command, Iruka. And we are _not_ at the top.”

Iruka scowled at Itachi. “Fine. I’ll be respectful.”

Itachi didn’t look too convinced. “If you pull something like that again, I _will_ break your arm, and I _won’t_ be sorry.”

It wasn’t an idle threat, but surprisingly, that didn’t bother Iruka. He knew Itachi wasn’t threatening him because he hated him. He was threatening Iruka because he was _worried about him._ Sure, there were better ways to express affection, but they were shinobi. Sometimes a shinobi showed concern by bandaging a comrade’s wounds, and sometimes they displayed their concern by threatening to break their comerade’s arm for insubordination. He grinned at Itachi, shaking out his numb hand as sensation slowly returned to it. “Thanks. I’ll do my best to make sure you don’t have to.”

“You better,” Itachi grumbled under his breath, turning down the open hallway and marching off in the direction of the Hokage’s office. “If I _did_ have to break your arm I’d feel terrible about it.”

* * *

Once the two of them were settled in the Sandaime’s office, the older man gazed between the two of them. “Now then,” he said, handing a cup of tea first to Iruka, and then to Itachi, “what seems to be the problem?”

“There’s a thief in the orphanage,” Iruka said, ignoring his tea completely. “And we’re trying to catch them, but we weren’t sure what to do about it once we _did_ catch them.”

The Hokage blinked in surprise, lifting his own cup of tea to his lips and taking a measured sip before setting it down and asking, “One of the children is stealing things?”

“No,” Iruka said, “one of the staff members is.”

The old man’s eyes widened in surprise. “I see,” he said in a measured tone. “Do you have proof?”

“No solid proof yet,” Itachi jumped in, “but Shisui and I have been watching the office. Iruka discovered a small safe hidden under some loose floorboards, so we’ve been watching to see which members of staff know about the safe.”

“Because the person who uses the safe must be the thief,” Iruka added quickly. “I tried to catch them in the act of stealing from my room, but -”

“Ah,” the Hokage interrupted, “that would explain the complaint that’s been brought before the council regarding your… extracurricular activities.”

That was a nice way to say _pranks,_ Iruka thought approvingly. He’d have to remember that one. “Yeah. And when I told Itachi about it, he and Shisui volunteered to help me catch the thief.”

The Hokage glanced at Itachi with a look of approval. “Very proactive of you.”

“I wanted to help a teammate,” Itachi replied, as if this was only to be expected. “But when we learned that the orphans also aren’t receiving their monthly stipend, Shisui thought it might be a sign of some larger issue. He thought it would be a good idea to talk to someone who might know more about the issue.”

The Hokage blinked once, then twice. “What do you mean, they’re not receiving their monthly stipend?”

“We’re supposed to have a monthly stipend?” Iruka whispered. Even though Itachi and Shisui had seemed positive that was the case, he hadn’t quite been convinced until the Sandaime himself seemed to accept the words as fact. 

Now the Hokage was staring at Iruka with a mixture of shock and concern. “Iruka. Have you _not_ been getting your monthly stipend?”

 _“What_ monthly stipend?” Iruka cried, moving on from shock to frustration. “The only money I’ve seen since my parents died was from the D-rank missions I’ve been running with my Genin Team!”

“Is it just you?” the Hokage asked, leaning forward, “or are none of the children receiving their stipends?”

“I don’t know,” Iruka answered, “what kind of stipends are they? We get food and clothes and stuff, sometimes.”

“Those are all covered by upkeep fees,” the Hokage replied, turning to his desk and pulling out a thick ledger, flipping pages rapidly. “You should be getting…” he drew his finger down a sheet before tapping at something twice. “Two hundred ryo every month.”

Iruka blinked. Two _hundred?_ Every _month?_ “Who’s supposed to give me that?” he asked quietly, part of him terrified to know. Who had been stealing from him?

“The funds are meant to be dispersed by the staff,” the Hokage answered, now flipping through the pages of his ledger, a frown darkening his features. “Interesting. By all appearances, these funds are still being transferred every month,” he said, more to himself than to Iruka or Itachi. “But it’s possible they’re being diverted.” He snapped the ledger shut suddenly. “Thank you, both of you, for bringing this to my attention.” 

“You’re welcome,” Itachi replied respectfully.

“So you’re going to do something about it?” Iruka asked.

“Yes,” the Hokage replied, a stern look crossing his features. “For now, I want you two and Shisui to keep watching the office for the thief, while I do some digging to see if I can’t figure out where those funds have been going.”

Iruka nodded seriously. “Yes sir.”

“If it turns out to be a serious issue,” the Hokage continued, “I’ll assign Shisui to oversee you and Itachi for the duration of this mission.”

Wait. Mission? 

“As of now, this is classified as a D-rank mission,” the Hokage continued, “but should new information arise, that may change. For now, I don’t see any need to involve your Jonin-sensei, but once we’ve seen this through to the end, I’ll divide the D-rank mission payment equally between the three of you.”

Iruka blinked. “Wait. So this is a mission?”

The Hokage nodded seriously. “Please treat it as such. Be discreet. Be attentive. Let me know of any new developments.”

Itachi and Iruka bowed in unison. 

“Yes sir!” Itachi cried.

“You got it!” Iruka promised.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention,” the Hokage said, nodding to the two of them. “If that’s all…”

Itachi and Iruka exchanged glances. “That’s all,” Iruka said, his heart full almost to bursting. Not only had the Hokage taken him seriously, he also offered to _pay_ Iruka for investigating! That almost made it worth losing his private room in the orphanage.

“Good. That will be all, boys,” the Hokage glanced meaningfully at the door.

“Thank you,” Iruka said feelingly, standing and moving to the door, Itachi trailing behind him.

“No, Iruka,” the Hokage replied in a weary tone, “thank _you.”_

The door eased shut behind them, and Iruka turned to Itachi with a wide grin. Itachi was grinning back at him. They had a _real mission,_ straight from the Hokage himself! 

“So. Back to the orphanage?” Iruka suggested with forced nonchalance.

Itachi nodded vigorously. “Let’s go.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this fic is taking longer to finish than I expected, but I don't regret the T&I detour one bit!  
> Thank you so much to everyone who has been commenting, I love this story/series and I'm so glad to see it resonates with so many people!! :D Thank you so much!!


	4. A Dangerous Conclusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iruka catches the thief! Or has the thief caught him?

Iruka ended up being the one to spell Shisui while Itachi got him up to speed. Shisui had taken a moment to hand Iruka some chakra paper, since he wouldn’t be seeing Iruka again until later. He said he’d decided to wait until  _ after _ their meeting with the Hokage, so that hopefully it wouldn’t be confiscated, too. It was kind of embarrassing, remembering that Shisui had heard about Iruka’s detainment when the information had been brought to the orphanage office, but Iruka was grateful that Shisui had been thoughtful enough to take some time from sleeping just to pick up chakra paper for him.

He was feeling even more grateful to the Uchiha Jonin now that he was actually sitting a watch shift on his own. It was  _ incredibly _ boring, sitting in the crawl space and watching the office. He had a new respect for Shisui’s attention span after he caught himself nearly nodding off from sheer boredom. It was a good thing he didn’t, though, because he ended up being the one to spot the thief. 

Surprisingly enough, it was not Eriko, as he’d suspected, but rather  _ Naho _ who ended up being the one to pry up the floorboards. To his surprise, though, the look on her face didn’t seem smug or calculating. Instead, she took out the small lockbox with an almost  _ mournful _ look on her face, and instead of unlocking the box, she set her ear against it, turning the dial slowly, a look of concentration on her face.

She didn’t know how to open the box, but she knew about the hidden space under the floor. Iruka wasn’t sure how to process that information. He’d expected that anyone who knew about the hidden space  _ had _ to know about the stolen goods, too. But instead, he was stuck watching as Naho slowly figured out how to open the lockbox, the same way Iruka had. Once the box had been pried open, Naho began carefully removing items, glancing over each one with a frown before finally she removed Iruka’s mother’s jewelry box. Her eyes lit up with recognition, and she set the box on her desk before carefully returning everything else back to the lockbox. That done, she moved back to her chair, sinking down behind the desk with a sigh before glancing up at the grate. 

“You may as well come down and talk to me, Iruka,” she said gruffly. “I may be old, but I’m not stupid.”

Iruka swallowed hard, not quite sure how to react. Finally, he slipped through the grate, landing softly on the office floor. “How’d you know it was me?”

Naho clucked her tongue at Iruka, shaking her head. “Foolish boy,” she said, “you brought two Uchiha friends here and expected me to _not_ _notice_ their chakra signatures?”

Iruka blinked. “I don’t think… didn’t they conceal their signatures?”

Slowly, Naho folded her arms over her chest. “And isn’t it a bit suspicious for an Uchiha signature to suddenly go  _ missing? _ Especially around-” she cut herself off, glancing around nervously. Iruka wasn’t sure what exactly she’d been referring to, and was equally sure he didn’t  _ want _ to know, if it included badmouthing the Uchiha family. 

“You noticed because their signatures  _ disappeared?” _ Iruka asked, surprised.

“Not the first time,” Naho admitted, “I saw you and Itachi leaving and assumed Shisui had gone off on his own. It was when Itachi came back later that night and Shisui left without him that I became suspicious.”

Iruka nodded slowly. “Because the Uchihas came back even after I was gone.”

Naho nodded back, then tapped on Iruka’s jewelry box. “This is why you set that trap, isn’t it?” she asked. “You knew it had been stolen.”

Iruka nodded slowly, surprised that Naho seemed to be treating him with… well. Not respect, exactly, but a level of  _ empathy _ that he wasn’t used to getting from most people, and especially not from orphanage staff. “I found the lockbox,” he said, “under the hidden floorboards. I wasn’t the first kid to lose things, so I looked around the other rooms first, and when I couldn’t find anything…”

“You began investigating the staff,” Naho repeated, not exactly approving, but not really  _ disapproving, _ either. 

“I think it’s Eriko,” Iruka confessed, “she’s the one who triggered my room trap.”

“She was doing a room check,” Naho replied exasperatedly, “We do have those, you know.” 

“Yeah, but a few kids lost items during the room check - and no one did after my room!” Iruka protested, still keeping his voice down as he did so, well aware that the office wasn’t exactly a secure place to be having this sort of conversation. 

Naho lifted an eyebrow, tapping her long claw-like nails on her desk, eyeing him for a moment before saying. “Wouldn’t room checks also provide ample distraction for  _ someone else _ to sneak into a  _ different _ room while the attention is elsewhere?”

Iruka blinked. “Oh.”

“And I required  _ all staff _ to report for duty after the explosion,” Naho gave Iruka a sharp look at that, “which means that any further thefts would have been impossible without drawing extra attention to oneself.”

Iruka felt his spirits sink. “So we’re back to square one,” he said miserably. “We have no idea who it is, or what they did with the other things they stole.”

“Not quite,” Naho replied, giving him a sharp look. “We know it wasn’t me.”

Iruka frowned then, suddenly wondering. “If you already knew you were being watched you could have just pretended to be surprised to find the lockbox,” he said. 

Naho’s old, wrinkled face broke into a sly grin. “True,” she said, still tapping her fingernails on the desk. “How are you going to learn the truth?”

Iruka considered the question. “I… I don’t know,” he finally admitted. “But I made a friend in T and I, I think, so maybe I could ask him?”

Naho blinked three times, almost glacially slowly, before finally responding. “You. Made. A.  _ Friend? _ In torture and interrogations?”

“Yeah,” Iruka said, feeling suddenly belligerent. “You know, yesterday, when you wouldn’t send anyone to pick me up?”

“I thought it was in your best interest to let you squirm, since losing your room obviously meant nothing to you,” Naho replied sharply. “I may not be willing to destroy books from the Sarutobi family library, but I’m not above leaving you in a cell for a few days until you recognize the consequences of your reckless pranks.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t learn  _ anything,” _ Iruka snapped irritably, “except that sometimes ANBU can be assholes and nobody listens to you unless you get their attention first.”

“Hm,” Naho said, lifting an eyebrow skeptically. “And how’s that been working out for you?”

“Well, not great,” Iruka admitted sheepishly, “But I can ask my friend at T and I how to get the truth from you.”

Naho snorted in amusement. “Go ahead and ask, kid. See what they say.”

Scowling, Iruka considered Naho. “Are you going to sell the things in the lockbox?”

“I suppose you’ll need to keep someone posted in that vent watching the office to make sure I don’t,” Naho replied with a smirk. “I hope you’re comfortable with spending a long time in tight spaces.”

“I’m fine with it,” Iruka shot back irritably. “Should I go back into the vent now, then?”

Naho shrugged. “It might be easier for you than trying to explain why you’re visiting me in my office.”

Iruka sighed. She had a point there, even though he didn’t like to admit it. “Okay,” he said, moving across the room, scrambling for the vent and tucking himself back inside with only a little bit of wriggling. 

Naho continued whatever it was she usually did in the office - signing paperwork, checking ledgers, calling grocery stores and making bulk orders for food, ordering cleaning supplies… Iruka resisted his boredom, still not sure whether Naho was in on the theft ring and just pretending to be sympathetic, or actually innocent. She left, eventually, which was almost  _ more _ boring than when he had someone to observe. He still wasn’t sure  _ why _ Naho had chosen to reveal her knowledge to  _ him _ instead of Shisui or Itachi. Did she think Iruka was easier to manipulate or something?

Sighing, Iruka stared down at the office, trying not to fall asleep. He wondered if he should have invested in some caffeine pills or something, he was slowly coming down from the spike of panic he’d felt at being discovered by Naho, and in the lull between being called out and someone else coming into the room he was starting to grow drowsy.

About ten minutes later, Iruka was once more  _ wide awake. _ Not because of Eriko, but because the office was entered by Kaoru, the only other former shinobi among the orphanage staff. From what he knew, she’d never gone beyond Genin, but as soon as she stepped into the room, her eyes turned to the vent, and Iruka  _ knew. _ She’d found him, too. He didn’t know how, or why, but she’d spotted him.

Unlike Naho, though, Kaoru didn’t say anything. Instead, a blinding pain shot through Iruka’s shoulder, and he realized he’d just been pierced by a senbon just as a second one, aim as perfect as the first, was embedded in his other shoulder. Frantically, Iruka shuffled back from the grate, his shoulders and arms twinging every time he moved. What was  _ happening? _ Why was Kaoru armed? What was she looking for? Iruka made it about five feet down the vent before he felt his blood  _ pulsing  _ in his veins, heartbeat thundering in his ears, every thump of his heart heavier and harder than usual. In that moment, he realized he was experiencing more than the usual adrenaline rush of combat - the senbon had been tipped with something, probably a poison. It probably wasn’t too fast-acting, if his body’s physical reaction was any indicator. A fast-acting one would have probably killed him by now. Since he wasn’t dead, the real question now was how long he could last - some poisons took days to kill a person, others took hours. He had no idea how much time he had to find treatment with this one. 

Frantically, Iruka shut his eyes, reaching out with his internal senses, trying to  _ hear _ the chakra signature of a nearby ally, anyone he could reach before the poison shut him down completely (or worse). Kaoru hadn’t followed him, and Iruka wasn’t sure why she wasn’t bothering to finish the job, unless her real plan had been to chase him away from watching her? Oh! And like a complete idiot, he’d  _ fallen for it! _ He didn’t even know if the person in the office  _ really was Kaoru, _ did he? Immediately, Iruka refocused his senses, this time listening as closely as he could to the chakra in the office. He’d gotten pretty good at identifying the chakra signatures of the staff, especially when he skulked around after lights-out, and as he focused his senses one thing became abundantly clear. 

Whoever that was in the office, it  _ was not _ Kaoru.

Gritting his teeth, Iruka did his best to conceal his presence, slowly easing his way back down the vent until he could see into the office again. The person disguised as Kaoru had crossed the room to kneel at the hidden space under the floorboards, pulling out the lockbox and  _ setting it aside. _ It looked to Iruka like the disguised shinobi had also pulled up a  _ second, _ smaller space under the floor of the  _ hidden space, _ withdrawing another scroll, a small pendant, and a small book hidden within. Underneath the underneath! Of course! Iruka wanted to smack himself for not thinking to look for a  _ second _ hidden panel. He should have known better. 

Blinking hard as he watched, Iruka tried to focus on the shinobi’s actions even as his vision grew more and more blurry. He didn’t understand what was happening - were the items in the lockbox a decoy, then? That would explain why only a few of the missing items had been “sold”, if they’d been intended to conceal a different theft. But what sort of theft would justify such extreme measures to cover up? Shutting his eyes again, Iruka did his best to commit the sound of the thief’s chakra to memory. If he survived the poison pumping through his veins (which was seeming less likely, but Iruka was nothing if not stubborn, and he refused to let a little thing like poison take him out), he’d need to identify the person currently transformed into the likeness of Kaoru. 

A thought occurred to him then, and he felt stupid for not having thought of it sooner - he had been studying seals, and one of the seals in that book the guy in Torture and Interrogations - Ibiki - had given him was a  _ barrier  _ seal. He could try and hold this person in the office until Shisui or Itachi came to relieve him! One of them would be coming soon, in less than an hour, so he wouldn’t have to hold the shinobi for long. Gritting his teeth, Iruka fumbled in his pocket for the spare chakra paper Shisui had given him earlier, explaining that he’d gotten it to replace the tags that had been confiscated by the dog-masked ANBU. He wasn’t going to be making exploding tags this time, though. He just hoped he remembered the barrier seal components correctly. 

He ran into another hitch when he realized he had no writing implements. Grimacing, Iruka reached up with numb fingers, fumbling at the senbon still lodged in his shoulder, tugging it out with a wince. With shaking fingers, he carefully traced the tip, tinged red with his blood, along the first sheet of chakra paper. 

He kept one eye on the Kaoru-disguised shinobi, who was now digging through the office files, plucking out the occasional scroll and tucking it into a pouch on her hip. She’d also kept the items in the secondary hidden space under the floor, stowing them in the same pouch. 

Iruka’s senbon ran out of blood. He still had three more barrier tags to write. With a wince, Iruka pulled out the second senbon, beginning the next tag. His hands were so numb at this point that he could barely hold the senbon. He managed to get partway through the third barrier tag before that one ran out of blood too. With a wince, Iruka bit down on his thumb,  _ hard. _ He was able to draw some blood, and he carefully let it run down the edge of his finger until it landed on the senbon. The one good thing about his hands going numb was that he barely felt the pain of the bite. The bad part was that writing the tags took even more concentration than usual. 

Iruka kept one eye on the office, pleading with fate or any god that would be willing to listen - he  _ had _ to finish the seals in time! Finally, Iruka managed to finish the final tag. Now he just had to set them at the four corners of the room.   
  
Fumbling for his kunai, Iruka carefully attached one tag to each knife before easing closer to the vent grate.

Pausing, the Kaoru-imposter glanced up from the paperwork they were sorting through, gazing up at the vent. With a heavy sigh, she shook her head. “Back for more?” she said, almost laughingly. “You should have left when you had the chance.”

_ I could say the same to you, _ Iruka thought viciously, pushing the vent grate open so he could better aim his kunai. He threw them one-at-a-time, his fingers too numb to risk throwing them all at once, but he managed to throw them in rapid succession. The shinobi made a move to dodge, then scoffed when they  _ “missed”  _ their mark.

“What are you going to do?” the Kaoru-imposter sneered. “Use your little itching powder trick on me?”

“Not exactly,” Iruka wheezed, clapping his hands together and  _ focusing. _ It was easier, actually, than usual - probably because it was his blood on the tags, and not the usual ink. It connected to his chakra with an ease that felt almost instinctual. Iruka couldn’t focus on the shinobi in the room anymore, all of his attention was focused solely on the barrier, on keeping it  _ strong, _ on  _ holding _ the impostor until someone - anyone - could secure them. Iruka couldn’t fight someone like this, especially not with poison still running through his system - but he could  _ hold _ this Kaoru look-alike. And that’s exactly what he was going to do. 

* * *

Iruka wasn’t sure how long it took for someone to find them. It could have been seconds, minutes, hours. Every part of him was focused on the thrum of his chakra, the pooling of energy in his stomach as he drew on his strength, pouring it into the barrier, determined to hold the thief until backup arrived. It wasn’t until Itachi was right beside him in the vent, shaking him viciously, shouting in his face that he needed to  _ drop the barrier, _ and  _ Shisui is here _ and something about  _ ANBU _ that Iruka finally  _ finally _ released his hold, gasping for breath he didn’t realize he’d needed until the air was rushing into his lungs. His vision was so blurry by now he could barely see three feet in front of him, and Itachi’s voice sounded like it was coming to him from underwater. 

“There’s… ‘nother hidden space…” Iruka tried to explain, flopping his arm in the direction of the hidden floorboards. His arms didn’t seem to be working quite right, so flopping was the best he could manage. “Inside… hidden space…” he felt a giggle bubble up in his chest and he released it with a tight grimace masquerading as a grin. “Hah! Underneath the underneath, y’know?”

Itachi was staring at Iruka in concern. “Iruka,” he said, eyes darting around the vent, voice more anxious than Iruka could ever remember hearing it before, “Are you hurt?”

“Not-Kaoru,” Iruka tried to explain through fuzzy lips, “Senbon. Prolly poison…”

Itachi hissed through his teeth. “When?”

“Before the barrier?” Iruka tried to answer, mind almost as fuzzy as his vision at this point. “Had to… blood. For the tags. Wanted me to run, so nobody’d see… underneath the underneath.” Iruka giggled again. Why was that so funny? He wasn’t sure, but it was.

Itachi’s dark eyes were boring into Iruka. “We need to get you to the hospital,” he said fervently, tugging on one of Iruka’s arms. “Come on.” 

“Okay,” Iruka agreed amiably, struggling to move. “Maybe you should go firs’,” he suggested. “Hard t’ move.”

Itachi nodded, shuffling back down the vent. A moment later, Iruka felt a strange pressure on his ankles, and then the ceiling was whooshing by overhead. It took him a long moment to figure out that Itachi was  _ dragging _ him out of the vent. By the time he’d figured it out, Itachi was already pulling him through the usual entrance in the hall, and Iruka tried to land on his feet, but his knees weren’t really in the mood, so he ended up crumpling forward, landing halfway on top of Itachi, who grunted at the impact but somehow managed to hold onto Iruka so he didn’t hit the floor when his knees buckled. 

“Come on,” he said, tugging on Iruka, “We’ve got to get you out of here.” 

In the distance, Iruka could hear the faint sounds of combat. Was someone fighting in the office? He wanted to watch. But he was also really tired now, so maybe it was for the best that Itachi was trying to make him go to the hospital. Plus, the poison thing probably was pretty urgent, though Iruka was having a hard time concentrating on anything for very long at this point. The barrier seal must have taken a lot out of him, he just wanted to  _ sleep. _

As the two of them stumbled down the hallway and outside, Iruka was surprised to see an ANBU figure appear beside them. The whole appearing without warning thing wasn’t really a surprise, that was a typical ANBU move. What  _ was _ surprising was the offer that came first - “Do you need assistance?”

“Iruka’s been poisoned by the unknown individual in the office,” Itachi reported sharply. “I have both senbon he was struck with here. We’re heading to the hospital.” 

“Good. You were right to call for backup,” the ANBU said. “Shisui and two other operatives are currently engaged - I’ll accompany you to the hospital.”

“You called backup?” Iruka asked blearily, turning to look at Itachi. As he did, his eyes finally managed to get a clear look at the ANBU’s mask. “You!” he exclaimed. 

The ANBU with a dog mask - Hound - stared back impassively. “Do you need assistance?” he repeated, turning to stare at Itachi.

“I can carry Iruka,” Itachi said, “But if you wouldn’t mind providing cover - just in case the thief isn’t acting alone - I would appreciate the support.” 

Hound grunted in acknowledgement, and the two of them hurried off, Iruka still slung over Itachi’s back. It was weird to not be running on his own, for once, but he was so dizzy he didn’t think he’d have been able to manage it, even if his knees  _ had _ been cooperative. Since he didn’t have to worry about running, and Shisui was handling the thief, Iruka allowed his eyes to slide shut. He really was tired…

* * *

When Iruka’s eyes fluttered open again, he was lying on a hospital bed. Two bouquets of flowers sat by his bedside - which was surprising because he couldn’t think of a single person who would even  _ notice _ that he was in the hospital, much less bother to send him  _ flowers. _ He struggled to sit up, wincing at the effort it took just to reach over and pick up the card attached to the first bouquet. 

It was from his genin team, signed by Yuuki-sensei, Itachi, and Shinko. The message was simple.

_ Get well soon! _ It read. 

Despite the simplicity, it was still the most thoughtful gesture he’d received when sick since he’d lost his parents. As he gazed down at the card, he felt a smile spread across his face. Maybe he  _ did _ have people who noticed when he was in the hospital, now. It was a nice feeling, to be someone worth thinking about, someone people cared enough about to worry when he wasn’t around. Setting the card aside, he frowned, glancing at the second bouquet. Who could have sent that one, then? With a small grunt, Iruka leaned over, plucking the second card from the flowers and glancing down at it. 

_ Nice barrier seals, _ the card read.  _ We should talk about them sometime. - Morino Ibiki _

Iruka wasn’t sure how he felt about the Torture and Interrogations clerk wanting to talk to him again so soon, but at least it wasn’t an order. He wondered if the interrogations expert might lend him another book, since he’d managed to make good use of what he’d learned from the first one. He hoped so - he had learned a lot from the one book, and hoped it was still safely stored in his hidey-hole in the orphanage. He was looking forward to getting the chance to really read it cover-to-cover. 

A knock sounded at the door, and a moment later Itachi poked his head in. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he said, stepping in without so much as waiting for Iruka to invite him in, shutting the door behind himself.

“Hey,” Iruka greeted, pulling himself up and trying to look more put-together than he felt. “How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Itachi said. “Did you hear what happened yet?”

Iruka shook his head. “I just woke up.”

“Well, the poison was a pretty common one, so they had an antidote handy,” Itachi began, grabbing the chair beside Iruka’s bed and tugging it closer before clambering into it and staring at Iruka with his dark eyes. “You were in bad shape, though, so they kept you in here overnight.”

Iruka nodded. “What about the thief?”

Itachi grimaced. “When we realized you’d set up a barrier instead of calling us, Shisui thought something might be wrong and called for backup just in case.” 

Iruka nodded. “I remember something about ANBU?”

“Yeah, I guess a few of them were hanging around the orphanage? Shisui must have noticed them because he just sort of yelled for help and three of them popped up.” Itachi hummed thoughtfully. “I think the Hokage probably assigned them to watch out in case the thief ended up being a bigger problem than we expected.”

Iruka nodded, considering that. “That makes sense,” he said.

“I’m not sure why they didn’t go in when you erected the barrier, though,” Itachi said with a scowl. 

“I do have a reputation for experimenting with tags and traps,” Iruka admitted ruefully. “They might have assumed it was just another test.”

“Well maybe next time they won’t be so quick to assume,” Itachi said sharply, glaring at Iruka. “You’re lucky we came when we did - you were close to chakra exhaustion by the time I got there. What were you thinking, holding that barrier for so long?”

“It wasn’t really Kaoru,” Iruka said, not sure how to explain the desperation he’d felt. “I had to do something. They only poisoned me to keep me from watching them, so I  _ had  _ to see what they were trying to hide!”

Itachi was giving Iruka one of his patented  _ you try my patience _ looks. “You could have sent us a message.”

“I wasn’t thinking clearly,” Iruka admitted. “I think that poison did a real number on me.”

Itachi scowled even harder. “That’s even  _ more _ reason to call in backup.”

Scrubbing at the back of his neck, Iruka chuckled awkwardly. “I guess I’ll remember that for next time.”

“There better not  _ be _ a next time,” Itachi grumbled, before shuffling in the hospital chair and saying, “They took the thief to Torture and Interrogations. We don’t know much yet, but-”

“I think the thefts were just a cover-up for some sort of intelligence gathering operation,” Iruka interrupted. “That’s why the stolen things weren’t sold right away. The missing money and the stolen items might not be connected, either.”

“Yeah,” Itachi agreed. “But Shisui told me they had someone in the treasury looking into the funding, and now they have the thief in T and I, so hopefully they’ll find the answers soon.”

Iruka nodded. “That’s good.”

“The head of the orphanage is under investigation until they figure out what happened to the money, as she’s the point person for the funds on the orphanage end,” Itachi continued, his face growing serious. “So she’s been temporarily relieved from her post.”

Sensing that something was about to go wrong, Iruka waited for the other shoe to drop.

“They put a woman named Eriko in charge for now,” Itachi said. “And she’s still petitioning with the council for your early emancipation from the orphanage system.” 

Iruka sighed, dropping his head back against the hospital pillows with a sigh. “I guess I can’t win them all,” he grumbled. “She’s probably still mad about the itch-tag.”

Itachi shuffled in his chair awkwardly. “Probably,” he agreed.

“Thanks for the flowers,” Iruka added, glancing at the bouquet before turning back to Itachi.

Itachi nodded seriously. “It seemed like a nice thing to do. I’m glad Yuuki-sensei suggested it.”

Iruka winced. “Is he mad that we took on this mission without him?”

Eyes sparkling, Itachi shook his head. “No, actually! After he heard about your barrier seal trick, he said that maybe it was time we started taking C-rank missions!”

Iruka sat up so fast his head began to spin again. “Wait, really?”

“Yes!” Itachi beamed. “We’ll be taking on our first C-rank as soon as you’re cleared for active duty.”

Iruka grinned back at Itachi. “That’s great! I guess things worked out pretty good after all.”

Nodding in agreement, Itachi leaned back in his hospital chair. “Now you just have to hurry up and get well so we can start taking on harder missions.”

Iruka laughed aloud at that. “Oh? Is that the  _ only _ reason you want me to get well soon?”

Itachi scowled. “Of course not. It’s just the most  _ exciting _ reason.”

Laughing, Iruka found he couldn’t help but agree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for bearing with me! I was really struggling to figure out how to end this fic  
> Haha, considering this one wasn't even in my original plans, I'm amazed at how long it became, especially since _Sharingan Stealer_ was supposed to be a oneshot series... whoops  
> Well in any case I'm very pleased with how this fic turned out. I hope you enjoy the next ones, too! Though I'm still hoping to hold them to oneshots for the most part...


End file.
